Close Encounters 21
by chezchuckles
Summary: Casino Royale. An old threat rears its ugly head when John Black contacts Spy Beckett. To protect their family, the Spies must gamble for their lives, and hope that the house really does win.
1. Chapter 1

**Close Encounters 21: Casino Royale**

* * *

_For Jessie, who puts up with the little parasite  
and for those of you who loved the spies' respite but knew the other shoe had to drop sometime_

* * *

Kate slowly pushed her thumb into the burgeoning drop of blood at the crook of her elbow, then glanced up to see the look on Castle's face.

"Stop, Kate." He shook his head, looked away from her.

Logan was already there, knocking her hand away with a tsk on his lips, pressing the band-aid over the place where he'd drawn blood. "Leave it alone."

"I am," she protested, wrinkling her nose at him. She hopped up from the chair and rolled her neck on her shoulders, but she felt pretty good. Castle had his hand at the small of her back as if he needed to touch her to reassure himself.

"You next," Logan said, pointing to him. "Get in my chair."

"Me?"

"She comes up perfect, every time. You're the one messing around with the serum."

"She's messing around-"

"Yeah, but you're _dropping_ stuff out of it," Logan insisted. "In the chair."

Castle was already rolling up the sleeves of his wrinkled white dress shirt, giving in to the inevitable. Kate pulled her own sleeves down, hiding the band-aid at her elbow, and she stood back to allow Castle into the chair.

They'd come over to the RMT Lab on their lunch break, though everyone in the Office assumed they'd gone to her father's to see their son. Sometimes that was true, but mostly they came here, consulted their Regimen Medical Team. Kate had a blood test every other week, but Castle had one every five days. In between those times, it was usually Kate here, working with Boyd on the notes from the Congo station.

There was just so much of it. So many interactions, a complicated tangle of indications and contra-indications and results. She was fascinated by it - because it kept her family alive - but also because it really was amazing. The science John Black had accomplished even as far back as the sixties was just so advanced.

Castle was super. Though he hated it.

He was glowering as he finished rolling up his sleeve, offering his arm to Logan. "I hate this."

"_I_ come up perfect," she reminded him with a smirk. Castle kicked out at her even as Logan wrapped the tube around his upper bicep; Kate danced away with a chuckle, avoiding his foot.

"Has Threkeld come in today?" Castle asked, glancing up at Logan as the man tapped a vein.

"He's here," Logan confirmed. "He's been pretty steady since he got a look at Echo's bloodwork. Damn it, sorry. _James_. He has a name; I know that. I do."

Kate only smiled. "It's fine. Actually-" She glanced at Castle for permission and he nodded. "We talked about it. We'd rather you guys called him Echo. If you're in the habit of talking about him by that name, and not his real name, it's a measure of protection."

"It's not like we're talking about him outside this building - outside this _floor_," Logan insisted.

"We know that; we trust you completely." Castle flexed his arm as he spoke, but he was looking straight at Logan. "We're here, aren't we? But this is a lifetime project. It's not like something we're working on for a few years, even a decade. This is our son's _life._ My life. Kate's. However long we're alive, the number of years James has on this planet - that's how long this secret stays a secret."

Logan - working at the needle all the while - gave them both a serious look and then went back to filling the vial with Castle's blood. "I think that's why it got started in the first place, calling him Echo. It seemed... wrong to use his name. Like we were jinxing him. We do a lot of - uh - hypotheticals here, you know?"

"Hypotheticals?" Kate asked, stepping up to lean against the back of the chair. "What do you mean by that?"

"What if Echo contracts malaria? How does his current blood chemistry react to a parasitic protozoan as opposed to say, Lyme disease, which is bacterial?"

"Oh," Kate whispered, swallowing hard. "That kind of hypothetical."

"The worst kind," Logan grimaced. He tapped the vial as the blood filled and glanced up at her. "So using our designation for him feels like protecting him. Not calling down bad juju on the kid."

"Well, thanks for that," Castle said wryly. "We have enough bad juju in our blood."

Kate flicked the back of his ear for that. "It's not bad. It's different. And we're learning, aren't we? James is growing and healthy; you're even experimenting with weaning yourself off the serum. It's working, Castle."

She didn't exactly _love_ that he was being weaned off the regimen, though a part of her wanted her whole family free and clear of it. She just got nervous when they started in on this whole _I could stop taking it_ thing.

"I guess it's working for now," Castle finally said. He wasn't looking at her. Logan did though, and she met his grimace with one of her own.

Logan removed the vial and capped it quickly, labeled it in his neat, precise handwriting. Castle was taking the tubing off from around his arm, and then Logan came back and cleaned him up.

Castle didn't even need the band-aid. The bleeding had already stopped.

"See?" he murmured to Kate. "Still super."

She'd been wondering. She could admit that much. Hearing him say he was experimenting around with dosages, that Boyd was working with his father's notes on teasing out those essential elements from the non-essential had made Kate worry for her husband.

"Still super," she sighed. Castle reached up and hooked his fingers in her belt loop, stood from the chair.

"I'm going to take these out to Boyd. You guys each have a stress test though. Don't forget."

"We won't," Castle called back, not even looking at him as Logan left. He was looking at her.

Kate leaned in and kissed her husband, her heels putting her at just his height today. His lips were soft; he tasted like mint.

Castle cupped the back of her neck, fingers moving softly, pulling slowly away from her. "You come up perfect every time," he murmured.

She blinked, swamped with love for him, and he put her back, his hand caressing her arm and down to her wrist.

"Stress test and then let's get out of here."

She nodded; they had work to do.

* * *

Reynolds caught him shooting up in the bathroom.

The man stumbled, but Castle waved him inside. He should've done this at home this morning - or yesterday morning, or the handful of mornings he'd had available to him and hadn't done it. It'd been a mistake to think he could go this long without. Boyd had been the one to call him, insist he take the shot.

Fuck, he hated the shot. He'd been trying to subsist on the pills, but apparently the pills weren't cutting it.

"Uh. Castle?"

He'd have to explain to Reynolds. "Tunisia," he said.

Reynolds flushed scarlet, and Castle realized that the man thought he was trying to hold something over his head, blackmail him into silence.

"The stuff we found in Tunisia," he said, gesturing to the empty needle he'd dropped to the sink. "That you protected with your life."

Reynolds glanced down to the needle, and then his eyes slowly tracked up to Castle's face. "What's this about, Castle?"

"It's part of why he beat the shit out of you, Ren. It's a secret government project." He laid it out there, just like that, and he didn't blink. "Sounds like shit you'd read in a book, right? But it's my life."

"You - need this stuff?"

Castle laughed, though it sounded hollow. "Yeah, but not like you're thinking. Not like an addiction, but like a medical condition. You heard of sickle-cell?"

"Yeah. Funky red blood cells."

"That's me," he said, pressing the crook of his arm. The blood had dotted up and smeared at his elbow but it was slowing now. "But a little different. Harder to control. Alters me in some ways."

"That's why Black wanted it? For you. Then why did you-"

"He wanted it for him," Castle said firmly. He wrapped the needle in a paper towel and pulled a plastic bag out of his back pocket, pushed it down inside. He'd dispose of it in the lab two floors down, the bio-hazard container. It would go out to be burned tonight.

"He wanted it for him," Reynolds repeated. But the man had been on the other end of Black's manipulations as well, so he was quick to get it. "To control you. To make you do as he wanted."

Castle nodded briskly. Already he felt better, though he hadn't realized he'd been feeling rundown. The serum he'd injected today wasn't the pure stuff, of course; Boyd had been tinkering with it for the last few months but this was enough to set him straight.

He'd have to tell Kate that Reynolds knew - and how he knew. "Kate and I have a couple of guys working on this-"

"Ah, shit, that mission at the Austrian embassy. Dr Threkeld? That had to do with you."

Fuck, Reynolds was a damn good agent, and had Castle really thought Ren wouldn't start putting the pieces together?

"That's right. That's it. But look, to protect you, Ren, to keep you out of this-"

"I'm already in this," Reynolds interrupted sharply. "So you need to explain it to me - the details, the _truth_. Because I've already been dragged down into it."

Castle rubbed at his jaw, glanced at his elbow to make sure it was healed up. "You're right. You deserve that much."

But he couldn't tell all. He could tell some, but there were still treasonous elements to this whole thing. Reynolds didn't deserve that.

And some things were just between him and Kate.

"To keep my blood right, I've got a whole team of doctors working on this shit. It was supposed to be an enhancement, back in the beginning. We were volunteers, but I'm the only one who survived."

Reynolds crossed his arms over his chest; he didn't look like the young kid who'd been beat senseless at a listening station in Tunisia. He looked like a covert agent. And a brother.

"You're the only one who survived."

"Yeah, and trying to keep it that way."

Reynolds glanced down at the plastic bag with the disposable needle in it and then he uncrossed his arms. "All right. I got it." He made a move towards the bathroom door, then turned back to Castle with an honest seriousness in his voice. "You need help trying to keep it that way, you don't hesitate."

Castle closed his hand around the bag, picked his jacket up from the side of the sink. "I won't hesitate."

Reynolds paused as Castle came close, suddenly held up his closed fist. Castle grinned, couldn't help it, and bumped fists with the man.

"You took care of me after Tunisia; you had my back," Reynolds said, slipping in a sly smile. "I got yours, whether you want me or not."

* * *

Kate had been aware that Reynolds was giving her looks, but she didn't quite understand them. And then he had made eye contact with Castle and disappeared back to his own work station in a rather business-like manner.

"What's that about?" she laughed, tilting her cheek for her husband's good-bye kiss. He was gathering his stuff to leave.

"Tell you later. Is that the chatter on PKK out of Turkey?" he murmured. He was leaning in over her computer, squinting at the report she'd gotten from the analysts.

"Yes, but you're supposed to be leaving," she said, pushing on his shoulder. "Get out of here."

"Yeah, but this is that separatist group that held the rally-"

"I know," she said, lifting an eyebrow.

He paused, glanced down at her, and she could have sworn he flushed a little. Castle stood up, pushing his hands in his pockets as if to say he wasn't going to touch it. "Ah, yes. You've got it."

"I do," she said, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. "Go pick up our kid before my dad has to make him dinner."

"Dinner," he murmured, smiling now. He wriggled an eyebrow at her. "You got any ideas for that?"

"We have those basil leaves we dried from the garden. You could do something with those?" She shrugged when Castle winced at her, and she threw up her hands. "Castle, I'm the last person you should ask. Oh, hey, I know - let's go out to eat; he's five months old today. That's old enough, right? We can celebrate."

"Oh, yeah," he said, straightening up again. "That's - you're right. Five months old. Wow. Doesn't feel like five months at all, does it?"

Kate reached out and hooked two fingers in his. "No, doesn't at all. It's gone so fast."

"Yeah, okay," he said, rousing again and shaking her off. "I gotta go. I promised your dad five o'clock. Did you hear he's going on a date?"

"What?" Kate jerked her gaze back to her husband. "A date?"

"Yeah. I think it's a group thing though. He met the couple that has the penthouse and they've got - I don't know, I think it's their mother?"

"Their _mother_?"

"Mother-in-law, whatever."

Kate blinked and Castle's face went from nonchalant to horrified. "Oh shit. This is a big deal. Is this a big deal?"

Kate sucked in a breath and rubbed her thumb at her temple, trying to stave off the eyestrain headache that had been germinating since she started the PKK report. "Castle. I can't-"

"Never mind. Ignore it. He's going to dinner with his upstairs neighbors, and I gotta get the kid so that he'll make it on time. So, uh, adios, sweetheart. Love you. Don't panic."

And then Castle _left her_.

Someone's mother?

* * *

Kate found her boys waiting at home, Castle encouraging James as he scooted on the floor, looking a little precarious as he lurched forward. But he was looking at her, alerted to her presence by the door, and his hands came together in a clap.

"Hey, baby. I'm so glad to see you, too," she said, dropping her stuff at the base of the stairs.

James bounced in place, looking happy. But on the floor beside his son, Castle hooked his arms around his bent up knees, hands clasped, and pouted at her. "What about me?"

"You're the one I was talking to," she snarked back, winking at him.

Castle laughed and leaned forward, caught James by his foot and pulled him slowly back towards him. "Come here, runt. Where do you think you're going?"

"Where's Sash?"

"Upstairs. She's hiding out, I think. James has been tugging on her tail. Haven't you, kiddo? I tried to tell you."

Kate laughed, but her lips turned down and she glanced towards the top of the stairs, waiting to see if the dog would appear. But apparently not even for Kate would Sasha show her face, too wary of James's method of showing love.

"Well, did you decide on a restaurant? You think he's going to make it all night?"

"I say if we're fast, it might work. And I was thinking someplace small, not crowded, somewhere they'll give us a booth that's secluded."

"Um, in New York?" she said, stepping out of her shoes and coming forward. Her toes popped on the hardwood floor and James stared at her feet as she approached, his own toes still held by his father.

"Yeah, but hey. What about Haun's? They have booths in the back and it has that soft Chinese music. I think that could work."

Kate lifted an eyebrow, glanced down at her son who was trying to crawl away from Castle's grip on his little leg, grunting as he rocked forward. "Okay, well. Let's try it. Practice run for your birthday meal."

Castle laughed, shaking his head. "No, I don't want to go out for my birthday." His look turned dark and he stood now, heading for her. "You know what I want."

Kate pressed her lips together, had to avoid his eyes to keep from going for it right there in the living room. They had kinda - uh, well - made each other promises on her birthday when James was only four weeks old. It had stormed and the power had gone out and it had been kind of romantic, but of course, no power meant Kate hadn't been able to warm up a bottle. Put a crimp in their celebration.

"Kate," he murmured, low, intoxicating. "You know what I want for my birthday-"

"I know," she husked, finally meeting his eyes. Castle's were so blue, violently, sharply blue, and she sucked in a breath just before his mouth sealed over hers.

Kate wrapped an arm around his neck and lifted up on her toes to press her body into his. The noise he made when they touched made her skin electric, her stomach flutter, and then he was palming her ass and hiking her into-

"Fuck," he gasped, breaking apart, startling.

She clung to him for a second, and then glanced down, saw James had wormed his way between them, sitting on Castle's feet.

"Hey, baby," she sighed, sinking down to meet him. James gave her that surprised face, which only made her chuckle - like he had no idea what he'd just done - and then she scooped him up.

Castle rubbed a hand through his hair and tugged, sighing at her. She smirked and shook her head, mouthed _later_ at him as she cradled James against her.

"Oh, hey, wait a second," she said, snagging his sleeve before he could turn away. "What was that about Reynolds today? You said you had to-"

"He caught me shooting up in the bathroom," Castle winced.

Her heart tripped and she clutched James a little too hard. "What do you mean. Castle. What do you mean shooting up."

"I had to - uh - Boyd checked my blood levels and - you know - he said I should go ahead and take an injection."

The blood drained from her face and she had to grip the baby to keep from dropping him. "Wait. An injection? Of the serum?"

"Not pure. Not like what it was, Kate. Shit, don't look at me like that. It's not the end of the world."

"I don't - don't like you messing around with this stuff, Castle."

He turned away from her, heading for James's corduroy elephant on the floor and scooping it up. Kate followed, her throat tight, and not even James's happy babble at the sight of his elephant could lift her heart.

"I ate like four scrambled eggs when I got home," Castle said quietly.

She swallowed and nodded.

"Boyd is going to check my levels at the end of the week." Castle handed James his elephant and then his eyes lifted to meet hers. She saw the faint shame in his gaze and she knew she had to get it together.

He didn't want this, and no, she didn't want it for him. She couldn't collapse every time Castle's blood chemistry got a little out of whack. He was trying to wean himself from the serum, and if it was possible, then she definitely wanted that. For him, for them, for James as well.

"Be brave, Kate," he whispered. "I'm really fine."

She could do this. "I am. I will be. I can - I'm sorry. It just hit me for some reason."

He nodded, but she knew he hated making her upset over this and he felt guilty for it and it just - shit. It was a vicious cycle for their issues and she shouldn't do this to him.

Kate untangled an arm from James and reached out to slide it around her husband, pressing her nose into his shoulder. He sighed and embrace them both, his palm coming up to cradle the back of her head.

He kissed the corner of her eye and she took a breath.

"So, is it Huan's?"

"Yeah, love. Let's try it."

* * *

Kate was glaring at him, and he could _feel _it even if he couldn't see it.

"No," she hissed. "After Huan's, we said no more dinners out."

"It wasn't _that_ bad." Castle glanced up from where he was feeding James, curled his wrist so that he could do it one-handed and also hold the baby. "Come on. One little dinner."

"Where were _you_? It was a train wreck, Castle." She was poring through his recipes, most of them printed from the internet, though a few of them were from Jim. She shifted away from the countertop and pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead. "We are not going out. I can find something."

"Yeah, right."

Kate glared at him, stalking forward with her hands on her hips. "You cannot be serious right now."

He narrowed his eyes at her, and then he glanced down at the baby. "You'd be good, wouldn't you? Already you're so much older."

"He's two weeks older."

"See?"

"I know you're going stir-crazy," she said, reaching out to knock her knuckle into his forehead. "So am I. But the poor kid. He can't handle that many people, that kind of crowd."

"Whatever. The kid gets his way like 24/7, Kate Beckett."

"Rodgers."

"Huh?"

"Kate Rodgers," she muttered. She nudged him again, a fist against his temple this time, and he ducked away from her.

"What? So Huan's wasn't quite-"

"It's not the place, Castle. It's the baby. He doesn't like-"

"But I've fed him. We hadn't fed him when we went. And-"

"You're an ass," she huffed. But she leaned in over him and took James out of his arms, the bottle with him, turned her back on him.

"Are you mad at me?"

"You have to ask?" she bit back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"You're hot when you're angry."

Her glare turned downright nasty and he shivered.

"Ooh, but not when you're angry with me."

She sauntered away from him, taking his son with her, and Castle tried to smother the smirk into his hand. But he hopped up from the kitchen table and followed, watching Kate as she finished giving James the bottle.

"Hey, Kate? I was being annoying, I know, but I really think this will work." He reached out and touched her elbow, and she turned, that withering stare still planted on her face. And if Castle wasn't just imagining it, James looked highly amused.

He leaned in and carefully took the empty bottle, the baby as well, putting James against his shoulder to pat his back. He wasn't as skinny as he'd been, plump legs kicked Castle's chest, but he was still pretty long. He'd be tall, Castle thought.

Dinner out. "Kate?"

"Fine." She waved her hand and took the diaper cloth from her own shoulder, leaned over to tuck it between him and James.

Castle waited, trying to be patient with her, and she let out a sigh, stroking her fingers along James's ear as the boy squirmed.

"I guess I feel guilty," she muttered. She wasn't looking at him. "He definitely doesn't like the noise. And yet we're taking him right into the maelstrom."

"You feel guilty for that?"

"I basically starved him for six weeks-"

"And now he's nearly six _months_," Castle said quickly, reaching out to wrap his fingers around her wrist. "Six months, Kate. Love. It's just - life. We're new parents and we're learning."

"Learning? He was _starv-_"

"Kate." He shook his head and drew her into him, pressing her against his side and cupping her head to lay on his other shoulder. She sighed, but she was still rigid against him, watching the baby. He stroked his fingers at her neck. "Kate, we make mistakes. New parents. You remember what Ryan said - we're gonna make a hundred bad choices, but we're trying our best. James will forgive us. And he'll never remember that Mommy and Daddy needed a couple nights out and made him uncomfortable for a little while."

She sighed. "And if not, Dr King is an excellent therapist."

Castle smirked. "He might be retired by then."

Kate laughed - finally, a laugh from her - and she rolled to put her face against his neck, still chuckling. "Fine, Castle. Even though I already know this is a mistake. Let's do it. Dinner out."

Castle grinned, brushed his lips against the top of James's head. "Hear that, wolf? Mommy's taking us out."


	2. Chapter 2

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

Kate watched her husband lead the interrogation, that cheerful-friendly aww-shucks routine against the man her team had just brought in. She wanted in that box, she wanted to be the one doing that interrogation, but it wasn't feasible.

It was her week to pick up the kid.

Kate could freely admit they were both chafing here. Not with the actual joy of their son, but just the day-to-day. Neither of them were exactly the stay-at-home type. Sometimes it felt to her just like house arrest had - necessary but confining. When she was deep underground in the Office, she found herself creating elaborate personal missions to hit up a couple of key elements for their new Chechnya plan or detailing roles that only she could do.

It wasn't just her. Castle was doing it too. Sometimes, in the middle of laying out the idea for an op, they both stopped at the same time and looked at each other, eyes meeting in regret.

They both wanted in on the action. They weren't good at sitting the sideline.

But they had promised each other - and their son - that the first year of his life was resolutely stateside. And after that, it would be two to four missions a year, no more. They had a family, and neither of them wanted to do to James what had been done to Castle - abandoned by his mother and screwed over by his father.

They wouldn't do that to their son.

But it was hard to stifle the urge to take control, to take over, to take up arms and go in hot. They worked well as a team in the field, and while it was always dangerous, they got results, they did good in the world. Mason was being relayed out of the Paris station to various hotspots in Eastern Europe, soon Esposito would be status-ready to join him on a few of those ventures, and eventually they'd have two more guys taking on the role of 'floater' like she and Castle had been doing.

Until then, they would have to make do.

Which meant that Castle was working over her guy in the box while Kate finished up the last of the analyst's report on the PKK's financial support in the US. And then she would pick up her son and take him home and she'd forget about how she longed to be out in the field.

It worked though - for them both. The moment their front door closed, they found themselves falling under the spell of their almost-six month old son.

And already, Kate's thoughts turned from global stock systems and money laundering and back towards the adorable little boy who waited on her.

He was growing up so fast.

* * *

Even though it was the first of April, the late afternoon had turned cold suddenly, so Castle scrounged in the boy's closet for the little peacoat that Carrie had bought him for Christmas. James was crawl-scooting on the floor, babbling after Sasha who was playing some kind of game with him.

Castle finally found the coat and tugged it from the hanger, turned and dropped it over James's head. The boy gasped and sat back, then cackled, grabbing for the coat. He drew it down his face and tilted back, laughing up at his father.

Castle grinned. "Yeah, I dropped it on your head, kid. What're you gonna do about it?"

James chuckled, his old man laugh that Castle could swear sounded exactly like Jim, and he tried tossing the coat.

"Chill out; you're going to need that coat. And see? You'll look exactly like your grandfather."

Castle wriggled his eyebrows down at the kid and James cackled again, chucking the coat away from him. Castle leaned over and scooped it up, then gathered the boy against his chest.

"Sasha, come on, wolf." Castle went through the doorway and started down the stairs, tugging the boy's little shirt down over his stomach.

Kate had dressed him this morning while Castle had gone in to work early, and so it had been a pleasant surprise to pick him up and see what he was wearing. The black vest and dark blue corduroy pants over the little man white shirt made him look rather dapper for Castle's low-key birthday.

James babbled nonsense all the way to the kitchen, and then he leaned hard out of Castle's arms, straining for the basement door. Castle grunted and shut it with his foot, frowning. Kate must have left it open this morning; she'd been working from home.

James grunted back at him, not happy with that, but Castle allowed him down and the boy moved instead for Sasha, gripping onto the dog's fur and struggling to get up. Jim had apologized to Castle this afternoon when he'd picked up his son, shown him the knot over James's eye. He'd started pulling up on things and had smacked his head when Jim hadn't been looking.

Castle bent over and rubbed his thumb over the spot but already the knot had disappeared, the swelling had gone down.

That was fast.

James tilted his head back and babbled a shout at Castle, then he ducked out from under his father's touch. Castle stood up again and laid the boy's coat over the kitchen chair, and at that moment, James pulled himself right up to stand, using the dog's collar and ruff for leverage. Castle laughed at the look on Sasha's face - and on James's as well.

James grinned widely at him, swaying on his feet, and Sasha stood perfectly still, giving Castle a look. James babbled in pleased pride, rocking back and forth a little as if he wanted to get going. It was almost _up, up, up_, if Castle didn't know better.

He ruffled the sticking-up hair on James's head. "Not quite six months old is a little young to be walking, kid. You're gonna scare the shit out of your mom."

Castle skimmed his fingers over the boy's forehead, pushing back his bangs to see that bump over his eye. Tinged a faint yellow now, with a dot of black at the edges. Healing - nearly healed. And in only about five hours.

"Don't let your mom see, would ya? It's my birthday and we're going out." Castle tugged on James's ear like Kate always did to him, and then stood up again, letting James practice walking with the dog as guide. So what if the kid hit his milestones early? He was smart and healthy, and he was a happy baby.

The locks on the door whirred and then snapped as the alarm released. Castle turned towards the entry, but James dropped to his bottom and went scooting across the floor, evidently understanding what those sounds meant and wanting to get there fast.

Castle chuckled and overtook his son, scooped him up and carried him to the door - just as it opened. Kate grinned widely when she saw them, dropped her bag to the floor and shut the door after herself. She walked right into them both, wrapping an arm around Castle and cupping the back of James's head.

She kissed the baby's cheek, and then she turned to Castle and bumped her hips into his, eyebrows going up.

"You knocked off a little early," he murmured, smiling back at her.

"April Fool's?" she said.

He laughed. She'd told him a late dinner, probably eight before she got everything done. April Fool's indeed.

Kate brushed her lips against his mouth and Castle pushed in closer, gripping James to keep him from wriggling down. Kate hummed and pushed back, her tongue clever, her teeth nipping his bottom lip, driving him a little crazy.

Castle groaned when she pulled away, found himself gazing at her as if through a fog. Kate smirked and gently patted his cheek, took the baby from him.

"You guys ready for birthday dinner?" she nuzzled into James's ear. "Did Daddy tell you we're going out somewhere special? Because he's so old?" She was already mounting the stairs and heading for their bedroom, taking their son with her.

Castle blinked and saw he was still standing at the front door, his body thrumming with that electric arousal, his whole game plan scattered by her. He couldn't even mount a defense to that 'so old' comment.

And he was totally fine with that.

Castle reached forward and locked the deadbolt, reset the alarm panel. And then he turned around to follow his wife up the stairs.

After all, she had promised him things for tonight. Not just dinner out.

Dessert in.

* * *

"HepB and DTaP," he called back to her. "That's what this says."

Kate checked the scheduler they'd posted on the fridge, ran her finger over the little boxes until she found the one. "Shit."

From the laptop in the living room, Castle must have heard her. "What's it say?"

"You're right," she shouted. "It was yesterday. Boyd didn't call?"

"Boyd didn't call. You know how he is; he gets distracted."

"But Logan?" she said, rounding the kitchen and coming into the living room. Castle was corralling James on the couch, trying to keep him occupied and away from the CIA-issued laptop. "Why didn't Logan say something?"

"Kate," he chided. "Logan's on vacation, remember? His wife-"

"Oh, right, shit." Kate sank down to the couch beside her son, scratched his back until he dropped to the cushions, hypnotized by her touch. "Call Boyd then."

She heard Castle snort and glanced up, saw that he already has his cell phone out. She shrugged and rubbed James's back, watching her son's eyes droop. It was late, but he liked staying up with them. He was a night owl, those big blue eyes so avid, but now it was nearly eleven and he ought to be in bed.

Kate rubbed his back slowly, watching him struggle against sleep, while Castle talked to Boyd about the vaccinations they'd missed yesterday. Tomorrow was Sunday, James's six month birthday had been Friday but they'd celebrated just like they'd done last month for Castle's birthday - dinner out and a walk through Central Park. It'd started to be their thing, taking the time to slow down and enjoy their life once a month.

Of course, Friday they should've been at Boyd's lab, getting James's next set of vaccinations. At his four-month date, James had received these same shots, and Kate wasn't looking forward to it again. He'd looked so _hurt_ about it, crocodile tears had rolled down his cheeks, but he'd come straight into Kate's arms and huddled there, whimpering at her.

At that, below her hand, James gave a little whimper and then his eyes closed, stayed that way, and he was asleep.

Kate stilled her hand on his back and lifted her head to Castle. He was nodding into the phone, frowning, and then his face cleared.

"No, no, it's fine. Really. We'll come in tomorrow morning and it'll be fine. A couple days won't hurt anything."

He smiled and shook his head at something Boyd said, and then he said good-bye and ended the call.

Kate lifted an eyebrow.

Castle laid his hand over hers on James's back. "He has the vaccinations - he just forgot. He said come in to the lab tomorrow morning and he'll do it then. He's also supposed to get a flu shot."

"A _flu_ shot?"

"Two doses for children 6 months to 8 years old who haven't had a flu vaccination before." Castle winced and lifted his hand from James, rubbed it down his face. "Shit, I really hate giving him vaccines."

"Every kid gets vaccines, part of life - a healthy life." She moved and hooked the crook of his elbow, tugging to get him to lift his head. He gave her a baleful look and she smiled softly. "It's not the regimen; it's not what your dad did to you, Rick. This is different."

"Yeah? Well, guess what else is at 6 months?" he muttered. "IPV and PCV and Rotavirus-"

"No, remember? We decided not to give him the rotavirus vaccination because he's not in daycare. And because he's... special."

Castle gritted his teeth and glanced down at James; Kate couldn't help covering the baby's back as if in protection. She didn't know why, but she wasn't sure how stable Castle was about the super aspect to their son and she hated to bring it up. He just - he wasn't settled about it, and she didn't want to keep shoving it in his face.

_Hey, your son isn't normal and he'll probably need help for the rest of his life._

No, she wasn't going to keep harping on it.

"Well, we've got a choice to make then. Flu shot or no?"

Kate rubbed her thumb over the baby's spine, watching him sleep on the couch cushion, his arms and legs tucked up under him. His mouth had fallen open to breathe and his lips were a round rosebud, lashes brushing his cheeks. What a beautiful boy.

"My family has had... an issue with the flu shot," she said finally. She lifted her head and frowned at Castle. "It has swine flu added to it, usually, and while it's no longer a live vaccine, back in the days when it used to be? My dad's mother got the vaccination and it caused a reaction."

"A reaction?" Castle rumbled. His eyebrows shot up as he looked at her. "What kind of reaction?"

"She had creeping paralysis."

"What the _fuck_-"

"Castle," she hissed, cupping her hand at James's ear. "Don't wake him."

"Paralysis is a big fucking deal, Kate. Why the hell didn't you say something before now?"

"It was a live vaccine for swine flu. It wasn't the meningitis stuff, it wasn't for polio or whooping cough like these others. It was a long time ago. It just makes me uneasy because of - because James is already a little different and reactions happen so fast, and last month he had a fever for two days."

Castle stared at her. She'd told him a fever was normal, and it was. It was. It had never even broken a hundred.

He rubbed his eyes. "I knew a guy in the army whose sister got the HepB shot at birth and it caused a 'seizure storm' - that's what he called it - like a lightning storm in her brain. She was basically a living vegetable his whole life. They had to get her spine fused at like ten, because she was deteriorating so much, and then..."

Kate gaped at him, then stared down at their son, her heart thumping. Their innocent, happy little boy. "Well, fuck, you didn't mention that either, did you?"

"I didn't want to scare you. I was already scared."

"Now I'm _terrified_."

Castle grunted and moved his hand to James's back as well. "He's done really well though. All the baby websites said that the vaccinations might cause swelling or a fever, irritability. The wolf had a fever, but he's been happy, barely even slowed him down."

"The two month check up - remember?" she said, rubbing her fingers over James's ear. "After those, he slept all afternoon and all night and I had to wake him the next morning to feed."

"Oh." Castle gave her a bleak look. "I didn't realize."

"That was right after - you know - starving him? So I just chalked it up to still being a little out of whack. You know how bad his sleep got, and then when we figured it out and he was getting enough nutrients, he would sleep like that sometimes."

"Yeah. Okay. So... what are we saying here? Are we chickening out - flu or no flu?"

Kate smoothed her thumb over James's little ear, curling back the wisps of dark hair. He still had some of that mohawk thing going, but it had started to lay down at his ears. Growing so fast. He could sit up unaided and even pull up on the dog; he kept trying to get Sasha to drag him around. Smart kid, but still so vulnerable, really.

"No flu," she said, lifting her chin. "Is that ok?"

"I agree." Castle let out a breath and gave her a relieved smile. "That's good. Right? Because he's not in daycare - he's just around us and your dad. And Carrie. And the boys. Huh."

Kate wrinkled her nose at him. "It's not like any of us work in health care, elderly services, or child care - where it's easy to catch the flu. Plus James is probably the most-watched kid in the world when it comes to viruses. Right?"

Castle actually chuckled, shaking his head at her, but he couldn't argue. She knew she was right. He was getting blood tests every month, poor kid. He knew when it was coming. In fact, Kate had been trying to cut his nails a few days ago and when she'd grabbed his finger, he had whined and tried to wriggle out of her lap, thinking she was going to stick him.

"Poor baby," she murmured, leaning in to kiss his round forehead.

"No flu shot, but all the others. We'll watch him. And we can call Logan if-"

"No," Kate laughed softly, her head close to James's on the couch. "No, don't bother poor Logan. He's on vacation. Let him have a break from us."

Castle grinned, but he didn't say anything. He knew they had relied on Logan too much; she could see it in the smirk of his lips.

Kate kissed James once more and then slowly slid her arm under him, gathered him up. "I'll put the baby to bed. You get the dog."

"Will do, love." Castle shifted forward and kissed James's little cheek and then his mouth came up and brushed over her lips, so soft that it made her go still.

She opened her eyes and saw him smiling. His hand came up and cupped her jaw, and then he kissed her again.

Sometimes she forgot, in the day-to-day of their lives. She forgot just how intense it was between them.

How could she possibly have forgotten?

"Hurry," he murmured.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm hurrying."

* * *

Castle cupped the back of James's head and tried to hush his crying, his eyes on Kate. She was stoic this time, her face blank as she talked to Boyd, but he could see that her body was leaning back towards them, towards their newly-inoculated son.

James was easily soothed this time, though he whimpered painfully at Castle's ear as if to remind everyone that he wasn't happy. This wasn't the first set of vaccinations that had triggered such a sad reaction in their son, like his feelings had been hurt, like he'd been betrayed by them. But it seemed the most _personal._

Maybe it was just that at six months old, James knew them now and they knew him. James was reacting to them and their emotional responses, and he'd been tense from the time they'd brought him into the lab. He'd known it was coming, and the accusation in his eyes was wounding.

"You're okay. Sorry, wolf, we're sorry but it's necessary. Keeps you from getting sick. You don't want to be sick, do you?" Castle lightly bounced his son in his arms, his cheek against James's temple. "I know you're sad. And when you get older, I'll take you out for ice cream after a shot, but for now-"

"Hey, what's going on here?"

Castle turned to find Threkeld in the doorway, his eyes small behind his glasses but his face sympathetic. He shuffled inside the exam room and put a hand up, rested it on top of James's head.

The baby was either so stunned by the man's presence or in need of just that heavy weight, because James immediately went still and quiet, dropping his head to Castle's shoulder on a sad little sigh.

Threkeld's wide hand stayed at James's skull for a moment more, and then he cupped his palm, ruffling the fine wisps of hair before he dropped his arm.

"He just got another round of vaccinations," Castle answered finally.

Threkeld was giving James a knowing, serious look. "Ah, I see. That will do it. But you're okay now, Echo. You're okay. You've got it."

James's eyes stayed on Threkeld even as the doctor nodded and stepped away, moving back out of the exam room and further into the lab. James gave a sighing little stutter of breath and closed his eyes, exhausted with it, his body slumped against Castle's.

"Hey," Kate said softly. "That did the trick. Who knew?"

She stepped into them with a kiss along James's temple, her eyes lifting to Castle. He gave a one-shoulder shrug, but he couldn't help looking out the door after Threkeld - Gerald Threkeld who had been broken by this secret and yet regarded their son with such serious affection.

He clutched James a little tighter to his chest to remind them both that Castle had him, his father wasn't going to let him fall, and Kate stepped back, glancing to the other member of their medical team left in the room.

"Boyd?"

The doctor turned from the biohazard bin where he'd dumped the needles and waster, and he regarded them both with surprise. "Yes? Did you change your mind about the flu-"

"No," Kate said hurriedly, a quick glance back to Castle. "No, but how is Threkeld doing? He's looking better."

"He has managed to collect himself after all of that, yes. I feel that his work is more superb than ever."

Castle grimaced, catching Kate's look, and he rubbed his hand over James's back to keep him settled. "His work is going well? That's good. Do you know if his wife has lured him out of the house any?"

Boyd looked blank. "His wife? I don't - I'm sure I don't have any idea. Logan would know. Actually, huh. I haven't seen Logan since-"

"He's on vacation," Kate reminded him softly. She smiled at Castle and shook her head. "His wife wanted to drive cross-country."

"Oh, yeah, that's right." Boyd chuckled at his own forgetfulness. "I knew that. They were going mountain climbing."

"Mountain climbing?" Castle laughed. "I'm impressed. I never saw that coming."

"You haven't met his wife?" Kate said, turning back to look at him. "She's hot."

Castle rolled his eyes.

"She is. You'd think so too. She has abs I'd kill for," Kate muttered. "Especially now."

"No fair comparing," he said, reaching out to poke her in those abs. "You just had a kid."

"She's had two kids."

"What?" Castle's mouth dropped. "No. Logan has _two kids_?"

"You didn't know that?" Boyd interrupted. "Two boys. They rock climb as a family."

Castle couldn't believe it. "Two boys. What are their names?"

"How is this new information for you?" Kate laughed. "Tyler. Um, Tyler and... Dylan? I think. Yeah. Tyler for sure; he's the oldest."

"Shit."

Boyd was chuckling and heading for the door, ushering them out, and so Castle followed, still rubbing James's back to keep him quiet and drowsy. Kate was entirely too smug behind them, but as they passed into the main lab, James perked up, lifting his head and looking around.

Boyd smiled and came to Castle's shoulder, tapping the baby's nose in that way all older people seemed to have. "Ah, I think Echo is interested in the work we do. You like the shiny equipment? Half of this is for you."

Kate made a little noise and Castle understood; it had hit him like that too. Half of this lab had been set up for James's benefit, to keep the baby healthy and growing, and it had worked. It was working. But it didn't feel good, needing a lab for their son.

James shifted on his shoulder and leaned back, a slow-creeping smile coming up on his face, even his eyes beaming. He drew his hands together and began to clap, switching just like that from sad and hurt to excited and happy.

Kate chuckled and clapped back to him, and then she came forward, catching James's cheeks between her hands and kissing him. "What a good boy. You're worth it, baby, aren't you?" She stroked her fingers down his cheeks to his neck and kissed him again, and Castle felt him straining in to meet her.

Worth it. He was worth it. The lab, the people, the regimen too. They had made a beautiful kid.

Kate pushed her hands under James's arms and took him from Castle. He let James go, and Kate gathered him against her chest, cuddling him, smile to smile.

Castle reached out and shook Boyd's hand. "Thanks for the vaccinations, for taking care of our son. We appreciate it."

"It's the work of a lifetime," Boyd answered. And even though it was a little cryptic, Castle realized he knew exactly what Boyd meant.

Raising their son was, actually, the work of a lifetime. Important and longest-lasting, a definite impact.

He hoped they weren't screwing him up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

"Oh, _shit._" Kate Beckett dropped the dog's leash and raced for the baby, scooping James up the second before he reached for the steak knives. "Shit, shit. James. You're gonna give me a heart attack, kid."

She sank back against the kitchen cabinets, cupping the back of her son's head even as he squirmed to get back down. She had just come in from walking Sasha to see - from the entry - the dishwasher open and the boy standing up, hanging on to the top rack as he tried to put his free hand around a knife.

"Castle," she yelled. "Castle, you nearly killed the kid. Where _are_ you?"

She faintly heard Castle from somewhere, but she was stupidly shaky and trying not to let James catch on to the way her heart kept a rather distressed time. James was patting her chest with his fingers as if in comfort, no longer trying to get away from her.

"Hey, I just read this hilarious study-" Castle stopped dead at the look on her face when he came into the kitchen from the basement stairs. Sasha wandered in from the living room, the leash trailing on the floor, and Castle bent down and mechanically unsnapped it from her collar, still staring at Kate. "What's... wrong?"

"He was standing up," Kate said, still feeling her heart in her throat. "Standing at the dishwasher and reaching for the steak knives."

Castle glanced past her to the open dishwasher. "I was unloading and had an idea, so I ran down to the basement to mess with the computers. I left him - he was - he was asleep in the playpen."

"He got out of the _playpen_?" she startled, jerking back her head to look at James. The baby was ducking his head against her shoulder, giving her that sly and sweet smile. Such a sweet baby, God, he broke her heart with that look. "Okay, James Beckett, okay, but you were supposed to be taking a nap, baby boy. Not climbing out of the playpen."

"I was down there for maybe ten minutes. Ten minutes, Kate." Castle was staring at her. "That _can't_ be possible."

She cupped the back of James's head, keeping him close, brushing her lips at his forehead even as she turned for the living room. They kept the playpen down here - it was really just a mobile crib - so that they could keep an eye on him during naptime or keep him corralled when they needed to be out of the room.

Shit, they wouldn't be able to do that any longer.

"He's six months old," Castle said behind her. "Is that possible?"

She found the playpen just as they'd left it, only James's two favorite stuffed animals - the corduroy elephant and the huge hippo - were scrunched in one corner. "Look, he climbed those. Happy accident."

"Or some fucking problem-solving skills that are _beyond_-"

"No," she said easily, still carrying James on her hip. The baby had curled his fingers in the neck of her shirt. "He just wanted out."

"Da-da-da-da-" James chanted, wriggling against her hip and then lunging out towards Castle.

His father took him almost automatically, his head swiveling to Kate. "He just - shit. We are fucked if we can't keep him in this thing."

"Ut-ut-ut-"

Kate laughed, pressed her lips together to keep it in. "I think we're going to have to censor the swearing too, huh? This is the first time his babbling sorta seems to be echoing us."

"He doesn't know what it means. He just likes to repeat the fun sounds. Don't you, James?"

James didn't seem to know what they were talking about, but he sure did give them a huge smile for that. He had handfuls of Castle's shirt and he was clinging to his father like a monkey, but he laid his head against Castle's shoulder and gave a shy look at his mother.

Kate narrowed her eyes at him and came in close, tugging his ear. "You can't have the knives, baby. You hear me?"

"Not until you're six, anyway," Castle whispered, kissing James's head. "That's when I learned."

"No!" Kate laughed. "Don't encourage him. James, ignore your daddy."

"Da-da-da-"

"How about ma-ma-ma?"

From his place at Castle's shoulder, James smiled sweetly at her, hiding one eye this time and lifting an arm for Kate. "Da-da-da-"

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes even as Castle chuckled. "I always come when you call, don't I? No matter what you call me." She held out both hands for him and James swung towards her, snuggling his body in close to hers, curling fingers down her shirt again.

Kate met her husband's eyes and they shared that moment of relief, having the baby love them, having James safe, and Castle leaned in to softly kiss her lips.

"No more toys in the playpen, yeah?"

"Yeah," she sighed, curling her arm protectively around her son. "No more makeshift ladders."

Castle leaned over and scooped up the hippo and elephant, touched the elephant's trunk to James's nose so that the baby laughed - his belly laugh that made them both feel ridiculously happy - and everything was normal again.

"What were you saying as you came upstairs?" she said finally, letting her heart's calm beat echo the baby's smile.

"Oh," Castle said, stepping back with the hippo under his arm. "Actually. Um. It was a report from a study on pregnant women."

Kate narrowed her eyes at him.

Castle's grin got crooked, but he kept going. "The study found that women who were stressed during pregnancy ended up having girls."

"Well, shit, that can't be true," she muttered. "Or this one was switched at birth."

* * *

"Hey, little wolf," Castle murmured, reaching in to pick up his son from the crib.

The morning light was all but blocked from the room, pressed out by the heavy curtains drawn across the window. James didn't like the sun when he'd just woken up - any more than Kate did.

Speaking of-

"You and me need to have a talk about your mom," he whispered, kissing his son's temple with a smack as he held him against his chest. "I know, I know, you're not awake yet. I'll give you an hour and then it's you and me, man-to-man. Mom's killing herself for you, you know? So if you could take it easy on her with this nursing stuff, just back off a little, eat the rice cereal and bananas like a champ-"

James hunkered down and burrowed his face into Castle's armpit, giving a pitiful complaint as he did.

"Okay, okay, I'm shutting up. But get ready for some solid food. Mushy, but still solid. That was the plan, kiddo."

James was either ignoring him, or he was clueless about the change that was about to come. Solid food. It was going to happen; Castle didn't love Kate taking these pills.

From the gap between Castle's arm and side, James must have caught sight of his dog, because he let out a stream of babble, his sounds of excitement. Sasha woofed low in her throat in greeting, and James made noises back.

"Uh-huh, you two and your wolf language." Castle gripped James a little better and bent down to ruffle Sasha's fur. James was so eager for his four-legged friend that he tilted out after the dog. Instead of fighting it, Castle just sat down on the top step of the stairs - their favorite place to pause, give James a chance to wake up before starting the day.

The boy rubbed his face against Castle's shoulder and then startled as the dog sat down beside them. Sasha poised regally on the top step, but the moment the baby got fists of the dog's fur, Sasha turned her muzzle into him and licked. Cheeks, chin, neck, ear, nose - nothing was out of reach or off-limits. It was their game.

And of course, like nothing else could, it set James to laughing, his mouth open and his eyes squinting up with his happiness. Castle kept the baby in his lap, cradling him against his chest, while Sasha played the game of nuzzling and snuffling against James's neck.

"Mm, wonderful sounds to wake up to," a voice said.

Castle turned and saw Kate standing just down the hall, one hand still scraping her hair back, her arm raised as if caught in the act. In one of his black t-shirts - only - his wife looked entirely delicious.

He could say that because she was looking at him like she'd really like to drag him back to bed as well.

James giggled and his arms managed to catch Sasha around the neck. The dog huffed and began leaning into Castle and the boy, Sasha's own way of hugging back, a heavy weight at Castle's shoulder.

Kate came and sat down beside them, leaning into his other side, and now James was torn between the dog and his mother, head going back and forth.

Castle grinned. "Such a conundrum, James. Whatever will you do?"

James lifted his head and glanced at his father, eyes raised as if in deliberation, but Sasha woofed low in her throat and got the boy's attention. James was instantly drawn to the dog and got a fist against Sasha's muzzle, leaning in.

Castle laughed and caught Kate's gaze. "Looks like you've been thrown over, Mommy."

Kate bit her bottom lip, but he could see she was trying not to laugh. "I'm crushed."

"Since the little wolf would rather be with Sasha, it's too bad we can't get the dog to baby-sit, give us some time alone."

Kate laughed then, bumping shoulders with him as she reached for James. "It's sad because it's true," she said, her fingers stroking at James's neck. In seconds, the boy was limp and blinking hard, not even fighting the hypnotism of his mother's touch.

Castle grinned. "Oh, look at that. You like that, huh, James?"

The boy roused himself to fling his arms in Kate's direction, and she scooped him up, kissing down into his neck and making him giggle. Castle watched them love on each other, and then Kate turned to him and was pressing her lips to his mouth, a deep kiss that stole all thought straight out of his head.

She pulled back on a wet smack, and he blinked hard, staring at the beautiful bow of her mouth and the tip of her tongue at her teeth. And then the shining, gorgeous warmth of her eyes and the messy fall of her hair. Her knees were pulled up, sharp bones sticking out, her elbows akimbo, the baby now docile and entranced in her lap.

So was Castle. Entranced.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Yeah," he roughed out.

She smiled slyly and tilted her head. "Yeah?"

"Whatever it is. Yeah."

Kate leaned in and softly kissed him, so tender, so sweet, so unlike that first one that he was completely bewildered.

"I was just gonna ask for breakfast," she whispered. "But sounds like I should aim higher."

* * *

Kate had four encrypted emails that morning and Castle had only two, so he let her go down into the panic room to decode them on the CIA computer he'd had installed. It was easier to do their work from home, and while James was now six months old and they went in every day, they still needed that easy access.

They had two hours before they dropped James off with his grandfather at the man's new apartment, but Kate might need to go in early if one of those messages was dire. It was her turn this week, next week it would be his. It was working out so far, one on-call while the other took care of the kid.

He was actually proud of them, how they'd figured this out. The plan was to be here for James's first year, wait until October before they went overseas on missions. He and Kate had done a couple things in DC, a meeting in Philadelphia, and then, of course, all the work to move the medical team into the city - entirely off the record.

But this was just a regular morning for them now. One of them doing the work of a spy while the other did the work of a parent.

Castle held the boy at his chest with only one arm wrapped around him, used his other hand to scramble the eggs. He'd been attempting an omelette but he'd messed it up trying to keep James from crawling down the basement stairs. Oh well. So far James was all right with the rice cereal - instead of Kate - so he wasn't going to complain.

"Kate! Breakfast."

"Almost done," she called up.

He used the spatula to dish out the eggs and ham and cheese concoction - he'd even put mushrooms and spinach into it because Kate loved it - and then he started laying their plates on the kitchen table.

James was playing with his fingers against his mouth, making noises, kicking out his feet. Castle picked up the baby spoon from the green plastic bowl, aimed rice cereal into James's mouth, past those fingers. The boy hammed it up too, giving his father a smacking of his lips, and then he chomped down on the spoon.

And then proceeded to laugh it all out again. Castle grunted and grabbed a diaper cloth from the counter, swiped rice cereal from James's chin. Oh, great, and his own shirt. Damn it. He was going to have to run upstairs and change.

"Hey, Castle?"

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Kate had appeared at the top of the basement stairs, her brow furrowed. Still swiping at his dress shirt, he reached past her and shut the door after her, surprised she'd forgotten and left it open. They had a baby gate at the top, but it just wasn't safe.

"Kate, we have maybe fifteen minutes. Omelette on the table. I need to change my shirt. Here, take-"

"No. Castle, it's - it's your father."

"What's my father?"

Kate's lips twisted but she reached out, took James from him, hugging him close. Castle's arms were empty, his mind blank, the cloth forgotten in his hand. He smelled rice cereal.

"Kate. Kate, what about my father."

"The email - one of those emails was from him," she said roughly, blinking. She buried a kiss into James's head and then lowered the boy to the floor, letting him crawl off.

"Okay," Castle said, wiping a hand down his face. "Okay, so. Shit. I hate that he contacts you. What the hell does he want?"

Kate took him by the arm, drew him to a chair. That couldn't be a good sign. He glanced over his shoulder to see James in the living room, heading straight for Sasha. The dog would keep an eye on him.

"Rick."

He turned his head back to his wife, took a breath. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Something's happened," Kate said quickly. "Something's happening and the Collective knows. I think they know about you."

* * *

Kate clasped her hands together and bit her lip, anxious for her husband's reaction. She'd slid the decrypted email across the table to him and now he was reading Black's threats for himself.

_You owe me this. I've let you off the hook time and again, Katherine, and now it's time for you to repay me. You have your son, you have my son, and now I will have you._

"He can't force you to do this," Castle rasped. He finally lifted his head to her, his eyes bleak.

"I don't have much choice," she husked. Her insides churned; she didn't want to leave him here, but there was nothing for it.

Leave James.

"No, you can't - you're not doing this."

"The Collective knows - knows something," she said. "Your father has to meet his contact but he _can't_. He can't, Castle, because _we _put out a Capture/Kill order on him, because how can he know it's not an ambush? He needs an intermediary."

"I don't fucking care," Castle growled. "Let it be an ambush."

She went silent because she knew that he knew; she didn't have to convince him any longer, only wait it out. He _knew_ they couldn't let his father twist in the wind, not when James was hitting milestones months in advance, when she was still on those pills to keep their son nourished as he needed, when there was just too much they didn't know about the regimen.

When Castle's own life might depend upon it. And as such, that put her own life in the balance.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his head in his hands.

Kate leaned forward to glance through the doorway. James was playing intently with the extra television remote - the one they didn't use any more because, well, because he'd chewed on it for so long it had stopped working - but he was always happy with it. He was fine.

"Castle," she started softly. "Castle, I have to. I have to meet his contact. You want to know how to wean yourself off the regimen? I do too. Black is our only source for that. I have to go."

"No."

She sighed and sank back against the chair, waiting on him to figure it out.

"You're not going. I don't want you anywhere near him," Castle told her. "I'll go."

Kate sat up straighter, stunned. "No. Castle. God. It's a meeting with the Collective. You can't be anywhere _near_-"

"Now you know how I feel about you being with _him_."

She closed her mouth, jaw tightening.

"You're not going with Black to some fucking meeting he's got planned with no damn back-up, Kate."

"So I'll take - I'll have Mason come with me," she said desperately.

"No. Mason doesn't need to be drawn into this. Nobody else needs to be fucking dragged into our-"

"You're not going," she shot back. "We've divided up the work so far, haven't we? It's my week."

"That's bullshit."

"Castle."

He growled and jerked out of the chair, standing up and stalking away. Kate stayed at the table, listening to the sounds of Castle striding through to the living room, settling near his son, softly talking to him.

Reminding himself, she knew. Reminding himself that they needed Black.

She gave him a moment, and then she stood up and went into the living room, sinking to the floor in front of the couch - still ugly, but now stained by baby and dinners and dog, stained by their life together. How could they get rid of it?

She watched as Castle turned and gave her a grim look. She waited, knowing that Castle had come to a decision, that whatever it was, there would be no arguing with him. Still, she trusted that whatever it was, it would be the right thing for their family.

"You'll have to go," he said. "But you're not going without me."

"No," she rasped. "No. Castle-"

"Partners, Kate Rodgers. Remember? You and I work best together."

She stared at him, but suddenly James was crawling into her lap and snuggling down against her, hands fisted in her shirt. She wrapped her arms around him automatically, his warm and sweet body against her chest, and her heart twisted.

He was only six months old.

But what else could they do?

* * *

Kate pushed the supplemental pill into her mouth, swallowing it down automatically, but she paused.

The pills had been necessary to maintain healthy nourishment for both herself and James while she had been pregnant, but when she'd stopped them, the boy had been slowly starving those first few weeks. Ever since they'd gotten her back on the supplements, she'd pumped breastmilk for later, just in case, knowing they might need extra if her own electrolytes were off, or if she ever had to miss a dose, or if she was ever delayed.

She'd done it thinking _shit happens_ - especially to them - though going out of the country and away from her still-nursing six-month-old son hadn't been the idea.

Fuck, she felt sick about it. She was taking away both mother and father from her son, putting herself and Castle before the only two entities on earth that absolutely wanted to ruin their lives. Black wanted her dead and the Collective wanted Castle as a living lab experiment. Living being rather subjective.

Kate had lived motherless; she didn't want that for her son.

Well, at least he wouldn't know. It wasn't _good_, but at least James was so young. At least he'd never remember what he was missing if the worst-

"Kate?"

She hurriedly fished another pill out of the packet by her bed and swallowed it too. She'd pump more milk this week before they left, have enough for James while they were gone without her having to dip into her stockpile. They'd freeze it and send it with James to her father's. At least James would have that. Castle had started the weaning this morning actually, with rice cereal, but at least James would have the supplements in her milk.

"Kate?"

"Coming. Hang on. I gotta find my shoes." Kate took another swig of water and opened the closet door, searching for her boots. April had come to New York with rain showers and hail these last few days; she should grab her trenchcoat too.

"Kate, come on. We've got a shitload of work and only a week to get our desks cleared."

They were going to have to stop cursing the _moment_ James actually became that little Echo.

* * *

Kate shoved the hair back from her face and scratched at her scalp, stared at her screen. In a moment, the message alert popped up, startling her even though she'd been looking for it.

Her heart raced. It was Black; he was responding to her carefully-worded ultimatum.

She glanced quickly around, but she was alone in the office; she shared this room with Ryan and a couple other analysts, and while she had no problem with Ryan, she couldn't afford to let her co-workers know she was in contact with John Black, wanted fugitive and traitor.

Castle was at his desk, the transparent wall between his office and the main bullpen giving Kate a clear view. He looked frustrated, and no doubt he was trying to clear his inbox before they had to leave for four or five days - all of that time incommunicado.

Kate opened the email and held her breath, winced at the frosty tone of Black's message. But he seemed to be acquiescing to their demand for Castle to accompany her; he'd sent her contact details for them to rendezvous in Paris in nine days' time.

_This is sensitive, Katherine, and it will need diplomacy, discretion. We do this my way, or my asset will never make contact. You tell my son that this is payment, that I've kept my word, that I've seen the boy grow without me and I've not called in my marker. Until now._

Goose bumps tightened on her arms and raised the hair on the back of her neck. She didn't like the idea of Black watching her son grow up - _how? how was he keeping tabs on James? _- but she liked even less the unsubtle threat Black had levered against them.

He knew where they were, knew exactly how to wound them mortally. And he'd do it. He'd kill her, he'd take their son; he'd do whatever the hell he wanted if he was pushed.

They had no choice.

She glanced up from her work station, found Castle's eyes on her. He lifted an eyebrow, something fragile in that look, and she nodded quickly in confirmation.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, still staring at her, and then he dropped his hand to the top of his desk and used his fist to push up, standing from the desk. He wanted to leave; she could tell by the strain in his jaw and the way he looked at her; he wanted to knock off early.

So Kate cleared her email, running the program that Ryan had written for her with the hope that it would delete the electronic strings that connected her to Black. It wasn't foolproof, and it wasn't without invisible holes they just couldn't see - Ryan was honest about his abilities; Malone had been their computer genius and he was gone. But it was something.

She ran the erasure program and then used it to clean the rest of her traffic, cleared her cache and history, and finally logged out of her work station. She had just managed to gather her things when Castle stopped at her desk.

"I want to get out of here," he said roughly. "I need to decompress."

She knew what he was really saying - he couldn't bear to wait another minute to know what his father wanted them for. "Me too," she said quietly. "Dinner and then-"

"No. James first. We can make something at your dad's?"

Kate hadn't realized she was holding her breath, but when it came again, the relief was a little dizzying. She had to press her fingers to the top of her desk to keep her balance. "Yeah. Yeah, I want to just - get to him."

"Me too," he said quietly. He took her trench from the back of her chair and held it out to her; she slipped her arms into the sleeves and allowed him to smooth down her collar. "Let's go liberate our son."

Kate felt the smile split her lips before she could help it - just that they had this routine at all, that they were two people who had made a little boy together, a son, that they had this family and these usual, end-of-work-day habits.

Castle looked at her in question - what could she be so happy about? - but she only shook her head.

"Let's go liberate our son," she chuckled.

* * *

Walking down Broome Street towards the dignified brown building on the corner always gave Castle a strange sense of coming home. Their cover apartment, established by the CIA after Kate's place had been bombed, had never been necessary before last year. Once Bracken's death had hit the news cycle, so had their cover.

Of course, establishing that non-profit in DC had been the best idea, moving their cover to Washington for the election season and part of the congressional year. But while their son's birth had gotten a small mention, their official residence had been listed in New York. So it had been easier to let that ride than to insist on a DC base of operations.

It was fitting that he and Kate would come back here every day, that after everything - the horror of her being kidnapped, the interminable period they spent under house arrest - after all of that, they'd walk right up to the front doors and swipe their keycard over the panel.

Castle, now a simple accountant just by walking inside the building, nudged his wife - his once-undercover police detective wife - into the vestibule and pressed the intercom button for the inside door. The keycard would work here too, for the security door, but they'd agreed that Jim should have _some_ privacy.

The intercom buzzed and Castle heard her father's voice over the speaker.

"It's us," Castle answered. "How's the parasite?"

He heard Jim chuckling before his voice was blanked out by the door lock releasing with a loud click. Kate opened the security door and ushered him inside and then she followed him as they headed for the elevators. Her father had come up with this arrangement, sitting them down on Christmas afternoon when James had been only nine weeks old and they'd both been aching to get back to work.

He'd had an idea, and he had approached them carefully with it, humbly, like he was asking them for a favor - the daily care of his grandson - and Castle couldn't have been more relieved if he'd arranged it himself. It had been the best gift that Christmas.

Jim Beckett had been a solitary man, had been chased by grief to his cabin outside the city, but James was a lure he couldn't resist. Jim had wanted to be close, to be able to see his grandson every day, watch him grow, and he knew how his daughter worked, knew his son-in-law too, and he wanted them to feel secure leaving James behind.

So Jim had moved into the cover apartment. It wasn't entirely perfect - the place was on the public record, but then again, James Beckett Rodgers was too. Their son had a birth certificate; a couple of media outlets had reported on his arrival as well. But the cover apartment on Broome Street - Jim's new home - was also monitored by Mitchell's security company 24/7 from the companion apartment next door. They'd also built a connecting door for a hidden escape - or emergency entrance - and the alarm system was styled after their own at home.

Castle was so grateful it choked him up. Every time they dropped off their son in the morning, he knew that James would be looked after, that they'd done the very best they could to keep him safe and innocent. But more than the physical, Castle was grateful for how Jim Beckett had oriented his life around his grandson without even needing to be asked.

Whatever else had happened, they had Jim in their corner. He was going to fight for them; he was going to do everything in his power to keep their family going.

That was everything to Castle.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Kate was saying, her fingers suddenly smoothing over the material of his dress shirt. "Earth to Rick. I said, Ryan found a new program in the vault." She glanced to the numbers as they lit up inside the elevator. "It could be modified for my dad's security system."

"Yeah?" he answered, dragging himself back to the present. It still got him, everything her father did for them. After his own father's... It was always going to affect him like this. "What's he found?"

"Video surveillance linked to motion detection with an element of facial recognition."

The elevator lit up for her father's floor; it felt like a homecoming. "Don't we have something like that already?"

"We have something kinda like it, but this one sends it back to the Interpol database and cross-checks against the no-fly list."

"No-fly list?" Castle laughed. He glanced over at her as the doors opened on her father's floor. "Are you serious or are you making fun of me?"

She had a guileless expression on her face as she stepped off the elevator. "Me? Make fun of your paranoia? Nooo..."

"You _are_," he huffed, knocking into her shoulder as they went down the so-familiar hallway. "You're making fun of my careful, _considerate _security system. I think I hate you."

"I think you adore me," she hummed, rapping her knuckles once on the door. "You think I'm awesome."

"I think you're mean. What a vicious tongue."

"And - oh - so wicked," she grinned, just as the door opened.

Castle turned and greeted Jim with a flush in his cheeks and the terrible, wonderful image of all the things she could do with that tongue, but her father was pulling him inside with a hug.

Jim did that these days, gave Rick some bone-crushing hugs, and he knew there was something like relief in it; they all felt it. Relief that the baby was growing and doing so well, relief that Kate seemed to have dodged the worst of the regimen's effects, relief that life had given them this chance at family despite everything.

"Son," Jim said, then opened his arms for Kate. "Katie, you guys are early."

"Wanted to get here," she smiled back. "Where's my cute kid?"

"Cute kid's in the swing, of course. He's been having fun messing with Sasha."

Castle moved past Jim and Kate, heading deeper into the apartment. He heard Kate kissing her father's cheek, giving some kind of soft answer to a question Castle hadn't heard, but Rick was looking for his son.

He rounded the living room and came on the kitchen to find his son in the portable swing, kicking his feet so that he skimmed the top of Sasha's back with every pass. James laughed when he saw his father - like Castle had caught him doing something he knew he wasn't supposed to. Castle cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, mockingly stern, but James threw out his arms and gave back a winning smile.

Castle chuckled and reached in to unbuckle James from the seat, unable to keep himself away. He heard Kate coming up now behind him, calling to their son in that voice that never failed to make Castle and James both turn to look at her, arrested by the joy in her tone.

James babbled in his happiness, grabbing Castle's ear in a sudden fist and pulling, excited to see his mother. Castle stood with his son in his arms, tilting his head to one side to keep his ear from the boy's grip. "Hey, little wolf, I know you're so happy that Mommy's here, but let go. You're squeezing too hard."

Kate leaned in close and rubbed noses with James, kissing his cheek noisily. "James. Were you kicking the puppy?"

Sasha, who had seemed content to laze in the threshold, now got to her feet and went for Kate, getting in on the love while Castle held their son.

"She seems to know that James can't get her," Jim offered from the living rom, hands on his hips as he grinned at James. "His foot doesn't even touch her, but he tries so hard to reach. Sasha likes the game. Don't you, girl?"

The wolf's tail was wagging slowly, ears perked up because she'd heard her name, and Kate sank to her knees before her, hugging her around the neck. Now that no one was watching him, Castle turned his head to his son and kissed the boy's cheek, couldn't help holding him close for a moment.

He wasn't sure guys were supposed to kiss their sons - and like hell he was going to _ask -_ but sometimes he just needed to do it.

James was leaning out after the dog, and Castle gripped him tighter. "You having a fun game with Sasha? I know you love your dog just as much as she loves you."

Lately, he had this urge to make a connection with his son, to pour words into him, fill him up with stories until the boy could talk back to him. Maybe it the boy's babbling, his first attempts at language. It was crazily thrilling, seeing how James was already trying, in his own way, how he mimicked their tone and inflection even if he had no idea that sounds were words. He made noises and smiled at them and - of course - he reached for his mother. Like he was doing still.

Kate finally stood, brushing dog hair from her slacks, and she stepped in to take James, kissing his cheeks and neck, making him laugh. Castle watched them, his chest tight with how good it was, how his family had become just absolutely everything - everything - in so short a time.

"You guys want to have dinner here? I was about to feed him," Jim spoke up. "We can make something - I got stuff for pizzas."

Castle grinned, tearing his eyes away from Kate and his son and how they had their own special communication. He nodded at Jim. "You had me at pizza."

Jim chuckled. "Well, son, let's see what we can do with them."

They'd have to tell Jim tonight. They would need him to take care of James while they were gone. Four days - five days max.

After dinner, though. He didn't want to ruin their meal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

Kate bit her bottom lip and went carefully on the zucchini, slicing it thin enough for their pizza.

"Need help?"

She lifted her head, blew the hair out of her eyes with a puff of breath. "No. Get out of the kitchen. It's my turn."

But Castle came closer, skimming his fingertips at her cheekbone and behind her ear, tucking her hair away. "You sure?"

"I got it. Hang with James and my dad. I can make a couple pizzas."

Castle was smirking at her, and she narrowed her eyes, but he lifted both hands. "Fine, fine. You got this."

He left her in the kitchen, heading back for their son she hoped, and Kate glanced back down at the long, green zucchini. Her father had bought a few fresh vegetables at the Union Square Greenmarket, a farmers' market that had been around for thirty years at least, and Kate loved the smell of fresh tomatoes and basil that permeated the kitchen.

She started then on the squash, cutting the ends off the yellow gourd. She rubbed the cut ends against the inside flesh, which her mother had once told her drew out the sour, and the act made her feel somehow close to the woman.

She'd had that feeling a lot lately. Every time she held James at her neck and the boy curled up, making that little fist against her collarbone, Kate felt like her mother was right there, breathing so close, rocking with her. A lovely haunting.

Oh, and that first time Kate had managed to change James's diaper without getting it everywhere - that victory, small as it was, had made Kate feel ridiculously happy. She had buttoned up the cover of the cloth diaper and scooped her son to her chest and she had turned to tell her - to tell her mother - but Johanna hadn't really been there.

Hadn't mattered. Kate had felt her there, sharing that moment, and it was enough that James was so small and needing her and she could do something right finally.

This pizza on the other hand. Oh, shit, she was in trouble.

Kate had sliced her finger, daydreaming like an idiot. Shit. Shit, come on, _pay attention, Beckett._

She hurriedly ran water in the sink, washing the blood off the knife, from her finger, hissing as it burned. Kate glanced over her shoulder, but both her father and Castle were too far into the living room to notice. At least there was that, no witness to her failure.

Shit, that had hurt. Well, at least James was whimpering like he did, that pitiful sound - it was a good distraction for the men. James always turned down his lips too, and he looked so pathetic that they always rushed to him.

Kate hissed and stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking at the laceration. She glanced back and Castle was holding James on the couch, saying something to him, the dog whining a little as she lifted her front paws to the cushions, nudging her nose into the baby's foot.

Okay, okay, she could handle this. Pizza. Her finger was throbbing a little, but it had stopped bleeding. Huh. She had thought she'd cut it pretty deep, but this looked fine, really.

Overreacting to a simple little scratch. Shit, this thing with Black had really scrambled her confidence. She had to get it together. It was a simple pizza. Cut the vegetables, spread the cheese, and stick it in the oven, don't moan about it.

Kate glanced once more to the cut, but it was fine. Didn't even need a band-aid. She started gathering the slices of squash and zucchini, layered them on the whole-wheat crust her father had laid out earlier. She had to grate the fresh cheese from the wheel, but the mozzarella and parmesan came off in pungent curls, and she avoided grating her own fingers.

With the pizza finally in the oven, she took another look at her finger. The skin at the sides was white, but a line of red had healed over and kept it from bleeding. She could probably just be careful not to reopen the scab and it would be fine.

"Hey, how's it going?"

Kate spun around and saw Castle in the doorway, holding James with an arm so that the boy was facing out. The baby grinned at her and smacked his lips, wriggling in Castle's grip as if to get down.

"It's good. Just fine. Put the first pizza in." When Castle got close, Kate leaned in, giving James a kiss since that lip-smacking made him look like he was asking. "Hey, my little wolf." She pushed her finger into the roll of baby fat at his thigh, and James babbled back at her, reaching for her hair.

"Can we put pesto on the second?" Castle asked. "And some of that pulled chicken your dad has in the fridge-"

"Is this _my_ meal, or are you bullying me about dinner?"

Castle barked out a startled laugh, lifting an eyebrow at her, and she grinned back at him. James had a fist in his mouth but was grunting too, like maybe he was trying out those same sounds.

"Fine," she gave in. "I'll put pesto and chicken on it - just to make you happy. The last of the veggies here too. How's dad?"

"I haven't told him yet," Castle sighed, wincing as James pitched back and knocked him in the chin. "Settle down, James Beckett, before you give me a black eye."

James tilted his head back to look at his father, as if he couldn't quite take that seriously, and then he arched and put a test to Castle's grip.

Kate pressed her lips together, trying to keep the laughter in, and she leaned in to kiss her squirmy son, blowing softly on his neck. James laughed, that chuckle that made him sound like an old man, but he calmed down, going still again as he watched her.

Castle sighed softly, his palm at James's belly. "Here. He wants you anyway. I'll finish the pesto pizza."

Kate trailed her fingers over Castle's forearm, reached in to smooth an invisible line over James's cheek. "No. I got it. James, hang out with your daddy. Okay?" She kissed his forehead and James hummed, one of his happy-baby noises he'd started making lately.

Castle met her eyes as she pulled away, both of them smiling to hear it, how James echoed the sounds he loved the most - Sasha's whines, Kate's hums, and Castle's growls. She felt honored - they both did - to witness the way James was responding to his environment, the way he was learning. It was kind of amazing.

"Get cooking, Beckett," Castle murmured, winking at her.

She grinned and pushed him out of her way.

* * *

Castle was washing the last of the dishes at the sink, able to look across the open floor plan to the living room where Kate was nursing their son. James was all eyes on his mother, adoring and entranced, as always, but it was the way Kate looked at him that got Castle.

Since they'd agreed to wean James as soon as possible, there weren't a whole lot of moments left like this one. He couldn't help shoring up his memories with this nightly ritual, the only time she was breastfeeding now, both of them maybe hanging on to it longer than James really needed just to have this time.

Kate's head was tilted towards their son so that her hair fell forward, long and in soft waves this late in the day. James often opened and closed his fists in her hair as he got sleepy, and tonight he was doing some kind of swirl with it, probably on accident, but Kate was in love.

God, it killed him. He sunk his hands into the hot water to keep a chain on the fierce pride that thrashed in his ribs, and he watched Kate smooth her fingers over and around James's face, murmuring to him as he nursed.

She was beautiful. Her face was filled with light, her lashes dark against the sharp sickle moon of her cheek. Her lips moved as she spoke - or maybe she was singing, sometimes she hummed a melody and the words came out too like she couldn't help it.

With her hair falling forward like that, Castle could only see part of her face, her body curled around James in the armchair before the great windows. The darkness of the night had fallen outside, though the view was dotted with gold because of the city life surrounding them.

The peace of them, his wife and his son, filled him up so that not even his heart had room to ache. It was just good.

Jim came out from the laundry room just then, carrying in a basket. "I've got his blanket here. Had to run it through the dryer again. You think he needs it?" He was talking quietly, and when Castle turned to look, he saw that Jim had stopped at the edge of the counter to watch them too, unwilling to interrupt the scene.

"No, he's fine," Castle murmured back. "Just put it on top of my bag in the entryway so we don't forget to take it with us."

"Sure thing," Jim said. He left the basket on the counter and folded the cloth as he headed for Castle's bag, placed the boy's favorite blanket on top. James had gotten attached to this silk and cotton thing that had been part of Martha's baby gift to them; it was grey with a pale blue trim, though most of that had faded with repeated washings.

Lately James was restless at night without both that corduroy elephant and his soft blanket. Castle's mother had been so _honored_ when she'd found out that James liked it, though she'd only been to visit a handful of times. Castle just didn't know with her - one day she was desperate to see her grandson and the next she was in Monte Carlo with her new husband.

As Kate always said, _one day at a time._

"How's it going?" Kate called out, her voice muted in deference to the boy.

Castle smiled back at her. "Almost finished cleaning up. How's it going in there?"

"Almost finished here too," she grinned. Kate shifted the baby and brushed her hair back, gathering it on her neck as she smiled, tilting her cheek to the heel of her hand. Her eyes dropped down to James again, and she shared her smile with him, saying something Castle couldn't hear, softly shaking her head.

Castle laid the pizza pan on the rack to dry and flicked water off of his fingers. He released the drain and wiped down the sink, hurrying now to get in the living room with them. Jim had wandered back to his bedroom with the last of his laundry, obviously giving Kate time to finish nursing, and Castle wanted a moment with her before they started this conversation with her father.

After Castle came through the living room to her, he leaned in and braced his fists on the arms of the chair, touched a kiss to her neck where her hair draped. "Hey, look, you made two meals tonight," he whispered in her ear. "Wonder woman."

Kate grunted and lifted her head, nudged her shoulder into his chin to get him away. "Don't be crass." But her narrowed eyes and pressed lips meant she was trying not to laugh. "He's almost done; you're distracting him." Her head came down, her body hunched over James. "Oh, no. No, baby, ignore Daddy. He's leaving. You keep eating."

Kate lifted her foot from the cushion of the chair and kicked out at Castle; he laughed and cupped the side of her face for a better kiss. But he left James's line of sight, not wanting to ruin the feeding - James wanted to play at night, and if he didn't have a full belly, he'd never fall asleep and stay that way.

Castle sank down onto the couch and leaned his chin on his fist to watch them, waiting. He memorized every detail of them together - the wave of Kate's hair down to the curve of James's little skull, the struggle of those small lashes to stay open, the soft sound of Kate as she lulled him towards drowsiness.

When James was finished, Kate lifted her head to him and Castle stood again, coming forward to cradle their son. He held James close, cupping the back of his head, swaying as he walked the room. He could hear Kate adjusting her shirt but already James was a heavy, sleeping weight against his shoulder.

"Sleep tight, baby," Castle whispered. He lowered James to the carrier and eased him into the seat, buckling him in. He'd sleep their way home, but first Castle and Kate had to talk to Jim.

They were going to have to explain.

* * *

She was still sitting cross-legged in the armchair, smiling at Castle as he sank back to the couch, when Jim came back into the living room and joined them. He had a heaviness around his movements that made her stomach flip.

Her father wasn't stupid. Kate didn't know why she had thought they could pretend nothing was wrong; he saw through her so easily.

"Something's happened," Jim said quietly, keeping his voice down. James was asleep in the carrier in the entryway, Sasha lying down between him and the door like a good guard dog. "Hasn't it. Something to do with Black, or you wouldn't be looking at me like that, son."

Kate glanced to Castle in time to see his surprise. He masked it quickly and met her eyes, but her father kept going.

"It's all right. It's not your fault, Rick." Jim turned to Kate and there was something both tight in his eyes and yet easy on his face that she didn't understand. He sat forward on the couch to look at James in his carrier and then he stared back at her. "I'm gonna say this because I ought to, shouldn't go another day being unsaid. Katie, honey, I never thought we'd make it to a day like this."

Kate stared at her father, her hands heavy on her knees. "What?" she croaked.

"You and I were so - we were damaged. In different ways but by the same thing, the grief of it, and I was bad for you, I was no good-"

"Dad-"

He went on like he wouldn't hear it. "I made your grief worse with my own and that's unforgivable. And so the thought that I could come to a place like this after the things I've done, after the place I was in, _we _were in, Kate, it's... a miracle."

Kate sat forward, anxious to dispel the gloom, but Castle made a motion that cut her off. She waited, trying to be patient, because her father seemed to need to say this.

"He's a miracle," Jim said quietly. His voice was steady. "We all know it. Not just because of the trouble, but because where we all were seven years ago. All of us. None of us are clean; we've all brought damage into this family. But look at us. Thank God. That's what I want to say. Thank God."

Kate's chest was too tight to let her breathe; it felt something like a panic attack but it was just memory and relief tangling up in her throat.

God, it had been so bad for them. For her father, for her. And then they'd scraped together something that looked okay, that limped along, but it wasn't _life_. It had been a kind of memorial, a living waiting, waiting for justice, for it to stop hurting, treading water in their grief. Until Castle.

"It's because of you," Kate got out, chewing on the inside of her lip as she stared at Castle. "You know that, right?" She couldn't - she didn't dare move and break the spell, the moment; she could only stare at her husband and hope he felt it too.

"Me?" he said roughly. "No. Kate, I-"

"Yeah," Jim interrupted. "Yeah, it is. You're not responsible for my sobriety or Kate's either, matter of fact, but the day - the covert op that brought you two together - that was when it finally started to work. It got easier. Not just for her, but - but me too."

She saw Castle swallow, a shaky hand to his jaw as he stared back at them.

Her father finally stretched out an arm and laid it heavily on Castle's knee. "And I know Kate does the same for you-"

"You both," Castle hurried. He sounded rough, she thought, as rough as she knew they all felt. It was good; her father had been right. It needed saying. "You both have been - this is my family."

"Son." Jim squeezed his knee with it, and the relief that flooded Kate was just so powerful she felt dizzy.

Her father didn't know the worst of it yet, how they'd have to leave, but he _did_. He knew it got bad with them, that it wasn't easy, that their life was really messed up sometimes - and that they _liked_ it, they loved their life.

"Son, whatever it is, whatever he's done, you don't carry that. Do you hear me? You're not responsible for him, things he's twisted up."

Castle hung his head and Kate's heart ached for him. How she wanted to cradle him against her, _save_ him from his father. But she couldn't. Black was... too much a part of this.

"You're not responsible," her father said again. "The past is past. And whatever happens in the future - that's not this, it can't touch on this, what we have right here. How we're family, all of us."

Castle lifted his head and Kate saw, for the first time in a long time, a return of at least some of that ease he'd always had. She remembered how Castle used to tell her stories about his childhood, those months on his sabbatical, and how nonchalant he'd been, how it just hadn't occurred to him to analyze his father's actions.

It wasn't a return to naivete, but at least a return to a measure of innocence.

She'd known it the moment Black had put her on her knees in that alley with a gun to her head - this was worth it.

So very worth it.

Even more so now than then.

"Dad," she said softly, starting where Castle could not. "Black has called in his favor. He wants me to meet with a contact of his in Paris, and I have to go. To keep this tenuous truce we have, I've got to be there, to do this for him."

Castle cleared his throat. "And I won't let her go alone," he rasped. "I won't. So I'm - we're asking you to keep James safe for us. Keep him... for us."

If they didn't make it back.

Because with Black, there were no guarantees.

* * *

"That was easier than I thought," he whispered. James was wonderfully asleep in the carrier and Castle wanted to keep it that way. "Your father didn't even object."

"Like he'd have a leg to stand on," she snorted.

Castle shot her a startled look in the darkness of their car, put his eyes back on the road. "What does that mean?"

Kate growled and buried her head in her hand, and Castle glanced in the rear view mirror to check on James. Not that he could see much, with the rear-facing carrier blocking his sight of the baby, but at least there was no whimpering.

Kate lifted her head. "Sorry. That was - please forget I said that."

"I've never heard anything like that come out of your mouth," he said. He was still stunned by the bitterness that had laced her voice. About her father. He'd never have guessed that was there.

"It should never have - it never will again. I'm just - afraid. I'm afraid, Castle, and I say shit I shouldn't."

He swallowed past the sudden dryness in his throat and clutched the wheel. "I'm afraid too. Tell me what you meant about your dad."

"Shit, it was - so long ago now. He just mentioned it tonight and I guess he got me thinking about it."

"About when he was - wasn't sober?"

"Yeah."

Such a dull, lifeless sound to her voice. It made Castle's fingers slide off the wheel and land in her lap. "Rough time?"

"God, it was hopeless. It was hopeless, Rick, and I'm - that first year after he got sober, I used to think, this is it. This is the last day. He won't show up for brunch. Or I thought, when I'm off shift, I need to swing by Dire Straights and check."

"That bar?" He thought it was in Harlem; shit, that bar was awful. He couldn't even begin to imagine Jim in a place like that.

"Yeah, the bar." Kate seemed uncomfortable as she talked, and he saw her turn around and lean back, looking in on James for a moment before settling in her seat again.

"Kate?" he prompted.

He was surprised by her; he had thought he knew everything about Kate Beckett but this was information he hadn't ever gotten, hadn't even known existed. He knew her father had been an alcoholic, that the two of them had made a deal to clean up at the same time - her addiction being her mother's case - but this was new.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "He's not the same man now. I don't want you to see him like... like I saw him."

"It would never - I could never lose respect for your father," he said gravely. "He's done more than - and it's in the past. Like he said. I don't carry the past with me like-"

He stopped and Kate snorted, tilting her head against the passenger window to look at him. "Like I do?"

He wisely kept his mouth shut.

Kate shook her head, her hair spilling down her shoulder. "You know, at first it was the nice places like the Old Haunt - classy places where the bartender would call me, where I'd leave my card and tell them I was a police officer and could they please let me know first? It was easier then. Not to see him like that, but easier to handle it."

"And then?"

"And then it was Dire Straights because they served until closing, no matter if you'd spent the last few hours half unconscious and weeping."

"Oh God," he flinched.

"It took - everything to get those fuckers to pay attention to me. I called the Department of Health on them twice before they finally smartened up and called me when he was down there."

"Before - when they didn't call - how did you know he'd been there?"

"Because my dad was passed out in the street, Castle." She shook her head and turned her face away from him and that just - just gutted him right out.

"Kate."

"It was really bad for us," she whispered. "I don't think you understand sometimes, just how - how you've made things different."

Castle swallowed and shot her a quick look, unwilling to take his eyes off traffic for long, but unable to not look at her. "Kate, honey-"

"That's why I just told you all that about - about him. I know you love him, I know he's been a father to you, and I'm so grateful for that. It's how it should be. You deserve it. He does too, you know? And I don't want to pull him down from the pedestal you've got him on, but I thought you should hear it - what you've done for us too."

"He's not on a pedestal," he said quietly. "I mean - I know he had problems before. He's human, like the rest of us."

"Though some of us are a little super," she said, and there was a chuckle in her voice. "I just - you didn't look like you exactly believed him when he was talking tonight. About how you've been so instrumental in getting us here."

"I believe it, but you were already on your way," he said roughly. It was hard to be confronted with the picture of Kate Beckett as anything less, when she had always been so much more to him. "I believe it with my head. Harder to imagine with my heart."

"Sometimes I couldn't carry him out," she whispered. "Sometimes I would manage to beg a cab to stop for us and the weight of him would drag me straight down to the pavement. No brunches, no coffees, no words of wisdom - he could barely stand to look at me."

"No."

She sighed. "Your heart might not believe it, but mine does. I was there. And now I'm here, we're here, and it's - holding on with both hands. It's - God - it's everything."

"I know," he got out. "Don't think I don't know how it's everything. Kate."

"I know," she said, nodding as she turned now to look at him. "I know."

He couldn't find the words he needed to convince her; he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be convincing her of. She _knew_ how bad his childhood had been, and worse, how little that had meant because it had been his _life_ until her. He hadn't had the rosier times to compare the bad to, like she had, so that when her father had started drinking, she'd known what she was missing. He hadn't even gotten that much.

She knew that, but sometimes he didn't think she felt it either. How reciprocal their needs were, how his love for her transcended even himself.

But it was like that for her too, and tonight she had reminded him of it.

"I was there in Tunisia," he said finally. "You don't have to remind me of what it's like for you, Kate. I was there. And my funeral-"

"You were most decidedly not there in that box, for which I am eternally grateful. If still pissed at you for that hoax."

He choked on a laugh, surprised again, shot her another quick look even as he heard the baby stirring. She was scowling at him for that, and she leaned back to look in on James, shushing him with soft noises, promises and endearments Castle couldn't hear over the sounds of the road.

He pulled into their garage and parked the car, turned off the engine. Kate was still leaned back through the seats; he caught a glimpse of the pale expanse of her abs as her shirt rose.

Castle reached out and ran the backs of his fingers along her skin, felt the ripple of her muscle in response before she was thumping down into the seat again, staring at him.

He leaned in to hook his hand at the back of her neck, drag her in for a kiss, but she resisted, her body angling away.

"Wait. Wait, listen to me for a sec."

"Listening."

"My father won't push it even if he doesn't agree, because he feels he owes me for a lifetime. And I promised myself to never need to be owed. Do you understand?"

"Not... entirely." He skimmed his fingers to her jaw, rubbed his thumb at her bottom lip. She closed her eyes and took a long breath, turned her mouth into his palm to kiss him.

"Dad doesn't owe me because it's in the past. It's done. But he's a Beckett; he carries it. And now I'm asking him to - to play godparent to my son. Do you see?"

"I think he's happy to-"

"No, Castle," she whispered. "I'm asking him to get ready, to be ready. For the chance I don't come back. I'm asking him to go through it all over again, and this time, this time he can't drown in it."

Castle dropped his hand and stared at her. "No."

"Yes. Because it has to be asked."

"No. You're not - we're not going anywhere-"

"We're going to Paris," she smiled tightly. "We're going to meet Black."

"We're not going anywhere," he hissed, snagging her hand and pressing it, too tightly. Too tightly, but he couldn't stop. "Do you hear me? I didn't just ask your father to raise my son for me, because we are coming back. This isn't how we end. We just got _started_. You and I are coming home alive."

She nodded, but there were tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes and damn it, damn it, that wasn't okay. She had to _believe_ in them.

"Don't do this to me, Kate. Don't make this Tunisia all over again."

"We got our son in Tunisia," she offered, a crooked smile turning up one corner through the tears. "There was that."

"There was that," he echoed, glancing back now because he could hear the baby whimpering at the stopped car, the disturbed sleep. "And he's why you gotta believe we make it. He's proof we make it. So don't talk about how your father grieves in the bottle, okay? There's no need."

"There's no need," she repeated, like she had to, like she needed the words to convince herself.

Maybe she did. He was going to keep telling her their stories, their future, until she stopped writing herself out of it.

"I know you're afraid, Kate. But do you think I'd ever do anything less than everything to keep you alive?"

She smiled now, a hand coming up between them to skim under her own cheek, blot the tears. "That got a little convoluted there, but I hear you."

"You hear me, but do you believe me? In your heart, Kate, sweetheart, not your head."

She hesitated only a second before she nodded, her eyes drifting back to the baby, her lips twisting. But then she fixed her eyes on Castle once more and cleared her throat. "I believe you. You make it happen."

"Always."


	5. Chapter 5

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

It was Tuesday before they got the details worked out on both ends; Kate had the travel itinerary and Castle covered things at the Office. It fell on Kate to pick up James and Sasha from her father's before dinner, and then she drove him home while Castle stayed at the Office to coordinate the last of it. When he was done tonight, they would put their heads together and fill each other in.

The walk from the parking garage to their house on Broome was completely without incident. She did see one of Mitchell's crew hanging back, shadowing her, but he was clever and gone before she could get a bead on him. The dog on her leash was fairly conspicuous - as well as the baby, of course - and Kate thought she should talk to Castle about letting them park out in front of their house, decrease the distance they traveled for safety reasons.

Well, not right now. Later. Once they were back from Paris, they could assess their security again.

With Sasha at heel and the baby on her hip, Kate made quick work of the short block home. James was a content little thing the whole way, fingers playing with his mouth, making new sounds, and when she remote unlocked the front door from her phone, Sasha slinked inside like a ghost, just as good.

Kate locked the door after them, set her bag down on the floor of the foyer. It was a strange feeling, coming home with her son and the dog, three of them but alone. She shifted James to bend her knees and unclip Sasha from the leash; the dog disappeared when Kate turned her attention to her son.

He was staring at her, and he was so clearly adoring her that it caused a silly grin to split her face. She cuddled him against her chest, soaking in his happiness. It took so little to make him smile, and spread through her too. "Hey, there, my sweet boy," she hummed, kissing his cheek. "Did you have fun with your Papa? He said you ate the bananas."

James grinned and got a fistful of her hair, his favorite game.

"I should cut it, I know, I know. You'd think I would learn." Kate made a face at him for it, carrying him into the kitchen as she untangled his fingers from her hair. She swiped the loose strands back from her face and over her shoulder, shifted James to her other hip.

She used her free hand to flip on the light, saw Sasha haunting the back door. She let the dog out, leaving the door open to inhale the mild April air, letting it circulate through the kitchen. James was peering past her towards the backyard, as if looking for his dog, and Kate tapped his nose.

"She'll be back. She's gotta check the perimeter. Do her business."

Kate moved deeper into the kitchen and opened the fridge, checking the bottles of pumped breastmilk she had on hand. She could only store it for about five days before she didn't trust it anymore, but she'd managed a system these last few weeks that allowed her to use the oldest milk. The containers in the freezer were good for six months, and she'd managed - oh, wow, look at that - she'd managed quite a lot.

Shit, Castle had said something to her the other day about all the milk in the freezer, raised eyebrow, something about preparing for the apocalypse. Well, she wanted to be prepared; they had to be sure that James would get the nutrients he needed. After nearly starving the kid at only six weeks old... fuck, she wasn't going to let that happen again.

She did still worry about Vitamin C loss with the frozen milk, plus there were studies that showed it lowered the helpful bacteria content, which wasn't ideal either. She didn't want to have to freeze it, but now that James was six months old, they were already weaning him. He would have rice cereal and bananas made by their medical team, tailored to his needs.

"Soon," she murmured, nudging her nose into James's cheek. "Sorry, kid. Gonna have to cut you off. But I promise you'll get what you need. How about that? Papa said you liked those mashed bananas. They had good stuff in them - Boyd made it up just for you."

James gurgled back at her, grinning shyly from under his lashes, those long dark lashes against his grey eyes. Beautiful.

She couldn't help cupping the side of his sweet face and kissing his neck. "You're all set, baby. You'll have everything you need. It will only be four days. Daddy and I fly out on Thursday and we're back Sunday night."

The alarm panel beeped once and James lifted his head, eagerness in his wriggling little body, and Kate saw the dog come nudging through the cracked open back door. She headed towards the foyer with James bouncing in her arms, and the front locks released.

When Castle opened the door, he came up short with a startled laugh only to have it echoed by his own son. James reached out for him and Castle dropped his stuff on the floor to take the boy into his arms.

"Hey, little wolf. You happy to see me?"

James babbled insistently at his chest, his palms hitting his father in his excitement, and Kate grinned and dipped her fingers down to Sasha as the puppy waited her turn. She scratched the dog's head until Castle turned to look at them, his smile easy and wide.

"What a welcome," he chuckled.

She leaned in and kissed him, but then touched his chin to guide him away from her. "Say hi to your dog, sweetheart. She's feeling left out."

Castle laughed again and sank down to his knees, both himself and James loving on the dog. Kate patted Castle's back and scratched his scalp with her nails, amused because she'd just done the same to Sasha, before she headed back for the kitchen.

"When you're done, we need to coordinate our departure," she called back.

"On it, babe. Come on, James, let's follow your mom. We got stuff to talk to about and since you're too little to repeat it, you get to listen in to all our secrets. How's that?"

Kate chuckled, throwing a look at them over her shoulder, but Castle was right. What were they going to do when they couldn't talk freely in front of their son?

Well, the cursing had to go anyway, so the state secrets would go then too.

* * *

"On Thursday, around nine in the morning, we'll get a priority message from Mason in Prague-"

Kate interrupted him again. "Prague? No, he's in Krakow."

"Today he is. Thursday he'll be in Prague," Castle finished, ducking James's outstretched hand. James got him in the mouth anyway, and Castle gobbled those little fingers until the boy laughed, that old man chuckle that made them both grin like idiots.

Shit, sometimes it was a little pathetic, how they'd been charmed by a baby.

He pulled James's fingers out of his mouth and cupped the top of his head, trying to settle him. They were eating dinner on the couch, Kate sitting at his feet as she inhaled the last of her lo mein, while Castle's plate was largely untouched. He was wrestling the kid though.

"Sorry," Kate said, still smiling a little at James. "I interrupted. Keep going."

"You're forgiven," he said, pulling down James's arm again, tucking him against his chest. "Settle down, Jimbo."

"What?" Kate exploded, choking on her lo mein and hunching over the coffee table to spit it out again.

Castle watched her, amused by her response, and Kate hastily swiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Jimbo?"

"Your dad gave me that one," he chuckled. James was laughing now too, echoing their tone with his feet kicking out, glancing back and forth between them to check and make sure they were watching him, that the amusement still went on.

"My dad is calling him Jimbo?"

"A few times. He said that was his nickname as a kid. Your uncle? I think he said your uncle called him Uncle Jimbo to his own kids too."

"Yeah," Kate groaned, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "I remember that now. My cousin Chris was a lot older than me, but I vaguely remember hearing stories about that. Shit, Castle, we are not calling him that."

"No, but I thought it'd be funny to spring it on you."

"Well, thanks for that. I nearly choked on my Chinese."

"Any time." Castle pulled down James's arm again, getting those questing fingers away from his mouth. "You're wolfing down that lo mein, there, Kate."

"I'm starving," she muttered, rolling her eyes at him. She broke apart a spring roll and munched on it, gesturing for him to continue.

"So Mason is our cover," he said, tilting his head down to violently kiss James on the cheek, distracting him from his apparent obsession with Castle's teeth. James giggled and squirmed, so Castle put him down on the floor where the blanket blanket with his toys was and he whistled for Sasha.

The dog came slinking down the stairs and gave Castle a huffing growl in her throat, but she nosed James and dropped beside him. James, enthralled with the wolf, kicked up his feet and managed to catch them with his hands, rolled on the blanket, content.

Castle turned back to Kate and she was smirking at him, polishing off a second spring roll.

"Whatever. You do it too." Dog as baby-sitter.

She only smiled. "So Prague."

"Prague. We'll have a covert emergency to hide our departure, so that means the Office reverts to standard operating procedure while we're out. Esposito will be tact team commander and Ryan has the analysts, but the decisions will be made by Reynolds."

"I think that's fine, Castle," she assured him. "He's been with the department the longest, and now that he's on permanent assignment here, I don't think anyone will disagree with that."

He nodded, his eyes straying to their son. James was trying to chew on his toes, almost able to get them too. "Chain of command is pretty clear, but I wanted to check with you. Make sure Ren would have the support."

"The people's support?" Kate chuckled. "You don't have to worry. They all like him. And Esposito is our only other option, and there's no way he could pull that off. Not with his lack of experience."

"Don't let Espo hear you talking like that."

She laughed and extended her legs out from under the table, poked James with her foot until he rolled over onto her ankles. She nudged his belly with her feet until he chuckled, that sound they loved, the one that made their son sound like he was patronizing them.

Yeah, he probably was. Wise old man.

"So the Office goes to Reynolds while we're gone. That's good," she said. "And Espo will have his back, no problem. Plus, it's only four days. And the weekend crew-"

"Exactly," he said with relish. "It shouldn't be a problem. Reynolds doesn't know what the true nature of the emergency will be, so he'll be protected. In case."

"We might want to think about letting him in on some of this," she said softly. "He already knows quite a lot."

Castle nodded, but he wasn't really ready to talk about widening their circle of secrets. It just wasn't a good idea right now. "I've talked to Mitchell about security for Jim and the little wolf while we're gone. It's all set."

"Thank you."

He glanced at her, saw she'd picked out another spring roll. He just wasn't hungry. He didn't know if it was their impending departure or if it was the adjustments he and Boyd had been making to his supplements. Since James was getting weaned, Castle was too. Or trying it anyway.

"Kate."

She lifted her eyes to him, the bite halfway to her mouth. "Yeah?"

He'd been about to get mushy, sentimental, totally inappropriate. This was a debrief, not a Shakespearean tragedy. "Your side of things?"

She shoved the bite in her mouth and nodded, swallowing quickly. "There's a military flight from Langley to Ramstein AFB on Thursday, ten o'clock. There are fifteen open jumpseats. Won't be a problem last minute."

"Good."

"From there, we'll have to leave base and head for the private airstrip just over the Swiss border-"

"Bern. That's where I took you before Rome," he murmured, smiling softly at her. "I bought you an infinity scarf."

"Was that my engagement ring? The never-ending loop of a scarf in Bern?" she grinned.

"That's a lame engagement ring," he laughed.

"Actually, I was a little wowed by you."

Castle sat up straighter. "No. You were not."

She laughed a little, leaning in to rest her cheek on his knee. "I was. You spoke that perfect German, you were taking me on this whirlwind tour of covert ops. It was all glitz and glamor."

"I bought you gloves too," he added, smiling a little, stupidly pleased she'd been wowed by him.

"Gloves too," she said softly, kissing his knee. She pushed up from the floor, abandoning their meal, and sat on the couch beside him, curling into his chest. "We'll take our usual cargo flight from Bern to Paris."

"Sounds good. If it all goes to plan-"

"If it doesn't, I even know of a couple of trains, should we miss our guy in Bern."

"That's my girl."

From the floor, James must have finally gotten a toe in his mouth because he squealed and dropped both feet in surprise, startling so hard that Sasha sat up and whined at them.

Castle and Kate both laughed, and James stared back at them, apparently still trying to process the attainment of that long-held goal.

"Now what, Jay?" Kate called to him. "With toes conquered, what comes next?"

_Jay?_ When did she start that?

James rolled over and got to his knees, rocking back and forth, and then - shit - he was off, scooting away from his blanket and heading for the kitchen. He was crawling like a speed demon.

Sasha started barking, James was disappearing _fast_, and Castle untangled from Kate on the couch and went after him.

"Oh, shit, I should've kept my mouth shut," Kate laughed.

* * *

It was dark in the baby's room, though Kate could see Sasha's eyes gleaming from the floor before the broad window. James was whimpering from the crib, pitiful sounds, and Kate finally spoke, hoping the sound of her voice would settle him.

"James, what's wrong, sweetheart? You never wake up in the middle of the night any more."

She reached the crib and settled her hip against the bars, slid her fingers through to stroke his hair over his scalp. He turned into her touch and made a noise against her fingers, half-crying.

They were leaving tomorrow - technically, since it was one o'clock in the morning, they were leaving today. Could he sense it? They were more excited, they were making plans; yeah, he could probably tell something was happening.

"James, hey, now, it's okay. You need to go back to sleep. Don't want to run Papa ragged on the first day."

She stroked her fingers around his nose and down to his lips, but it didn't have the usual calming affect. James mewled at her like a kitten, his tone pitching up, increasing in volume, and Kate hurriedly reached in and scooped him up.

"Okay, okay," she hushed. "Just don't wake Castle. Shit, he's gotta sleep. Oops, sorry. Shh, baby. It's okay. Come here."

James was giving her a little show, pitiful thing, the most temper she'd seen on him since he'd gotten his fingers pinched in the mobile. She cradled him like a newborn, bending close over him, and sank into the glider to one side of the windows.

Sasha came to sit at her feet, huffing at them both for the night-time intrusion, and Kate stroked her fingers around and around James's face, trying to soothe him.

He wouldn't be soothed. He was making a point, and he apparently was set against falling back to sleep because her sitting down in the rocking chair had only made his mouth open wider, actual cries starting up.

Kate stood swiftly and turned on the muted nightlight on top of the dresser. The blue glow bathed her son's face and he startled to a stop, staring at her from the cradle of her arms. His mouth twisted down, a hurt pout, and he looked so much like Castle that it made her laugh.

"Yeah, it's like that?" she murmured. "Some baby drama? Fine. I'm not even tired; I could do this all night."

But she shouldn't. She'd spoil him for her father and when tomorrow night came and Jim was the one who had to put him to bed-

Her throat closed up and Kate buried her face against James's, kissing him, inhaling his scent. His fingers tangled in her hair - that had to be a little cry of triumph at catching her - and Kate pulled back, choking on a laugh.

She made quick work of untangling him - he wasn't really trying anyway; he was sleepy, despite himself. But she found herself unwilling to let James go, unwilling to put him back to bed knowing he wasn't entirely happy, that he wanted her and tonight he could actually have her and tomorrow he couldn't.

She was going to be a wreck if she kept thinking like this.

But Beckett excelled at compartmentalizing; she'd been accused of it more than once, and she'd found it to be her best - and only - coping mechanism after her mother's murder. She had no trouble believing she'd be confident and focused tomorrow morning on their flight to Ramstein; it was tonight that was unmaking her.

She should go back to bed.

"Okay, how about I rock you back to sleep?" she told her son.

James wasn't squirming like he did when he wanted to be anywhere other than held, but he was close to it. She'd have to sneak him into the rocking chair, distract him from what she was doing. If she tried to sing, he'd know what was coming and he'd cry; if she sat down while he was still awake, he'd protest.

"I know," she said softly. "I can read you a story. Would you like that?"

Already, she could tell the sound of her voice was lulling him, calming him when her usual tricks could be seen right through.

"Yeah, baby, you like that. Don't you? Mmm, that's good. You're a tired boy, I know. Let's find Daddy's book and I'll read you stories until I can con you into sleep."

James let out a little sigh, blinking his eyes up at her, a few whimpers still in his throat. Kate moved to the low bookcase where they'd collected all the toys and gifts, the things they'd bought over the last few months as they figured out their son's little personality.

The black leather journal was right on top of the bookcase, laying beside the heavy elephant bookend that held up a few other board books. James liked mostly to chew on them, but he listened when they read. He liked the sound of their voices.

Kate left the journal propped on top of the low bookcase and flipped it open; James heard the rustling of pages and turned his head, staring past her hand.

"This is a story about a little guy named James-"

Her son mewled and shifted in her arms; she had to cup the back of his neck and hold him closer.

"That's you," she murmured. "And not you. Listen. The smallest elephant in his herd - whose mother was the fiercest and bravest, and whose father loved him so much that his stature never mattered."

James was watching her, the movement of her mouth and the words coming out. She felt her cheeks flush, surprised it was hitting her like this all over again, remembering the night at the dock on the lake outside her father's cabin when Castle had given her the journal the very first time.

She swallowed and laid a hand on the page. "This is a story about a little guy who did amazing, huge things because his parents never stopped believing in him. This is a story about what matters most."

James was so silent, so watchful and entranced. Kate slid her fingers under the journal and slowly walked them to the rocker.

"Meet James," she read softly, sinking down to the rocking chair. "He has small ears and two parents. He's going on a long journey with his whole herd. His favorite thing to do is to swim in the watering holes his herd finds along the way. When he swims, he feels especially brave and strong. He holds his trunk up and he kicks his feet and he moves through the water while his parents rest."

James was staring at her, like he knew, like the words made pictures for him just like they did for Kate.

She shifted back in the seat and began to rock, lowering her voice to put him to sleep.

"It is a very long journey with the whole herd; they are trying to make it to the sea. James has never been to the ocean before, but he is excited for the day when he finally sees it."

And now James was dropping into sleep, just like that.

Kate brushed her fingers over his forehead and he didn't stir, but she went back to the journal and kept going with the story - the story of how their son was born, the story of a baby elephant seeing the ocean for the first time, the story of bravery and love and cleverness told by a spy.

She would be gone tomorrow; she wanted tonight just as much as James did.

* * *

Castle found it difficult to leave.

He had James snuggled up to his chest, the boy still tired this morning, but Jim was giving him a funny look.

"You okay, Rick?"

"Harder than I expected," he admitted. Kate came up at his back and touched his elbow, lifted her eyebrows as if to say _get on with it._

Yeah, he needed to let his son go.

"Where - uh - where do you want him?" Castle said finally.

Jim took a quick look at the baby's face and smiled softly, patting James on the back. "If you want, put him in the crib. He'll sleep."

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding as he moved. He found himself still nodding, like an idiot, as he opened the bedroom door. James's room at his grandfather's apartment; it had been the extra bedroom when he and Kate were here under house arrest.

He cupped the back of his son's head and lowered the boy towards the crib, watching him squirm and open his eyes. Such light eyes, that strange grey, staring up at his father. Drowsy and trusting.

"Hey there, kiddo," he whispered. His voice cracked and he gritted his teeth, laid James in the crib. He forced himself to let go, but he couldn't help hanging over the bars, stroking his finger along the boy's cheek. "Hey, baby. You should get some more sleep. It's early and you stayed up late last night."

James looked drugged by the rhythmic stroke of Castle's hand down his cheek. He wriggled and his eyes fluttered open, but he only stared at his father and blinked hard.

"Sleep. Back before you know it, kiddo."

"Hey, here's his elephant."

Castle jerked upright, saw Kate at the door holding both the corduroy elephant and the soft, satin blanket that James liked to sleep with. She was hesitating, not coming into the room, so Castle reached out and took them from her.

She was reserved this morning, her chin down, eyebrows furrowed. She did that when she was shutting down, moving into badass detective mode. Or maybe that was spy mode now, wasn't it? She wasn't just his wife, wasn't just James's mother, she was a cop. She was used to getting her mind set for the job and then digging in and doing it.

That had been him too. But ever since he'd found Kate Beckett, his mission self had been rooted in this right here - their love, their life. He found his strength in gathering his people around him and _feeling_.

He was going to be a little emotional about leaving his kid for four days, and she was going to be the opposite.

So Castle turned and lowered the elephant into the corner of the crib, folded the blanket and dropped it over James's face. The boy laughed, and it made Castle smile; he glanced to Kate and she was pressing her lips together, caught up despite herself.

He reached in and dragged the blanket down James's face, was rewarded with that happy smile. The boy was still blinking through his tiredness, but he was watching his father for more of their game.

Castle knuckled James's nose, patted his chest, and then tucked the blanket into James's arms. The baby brought it up and got it in his mouth, gurgling through the material, and then he rolled onto his belly and wormed his way to the bars, pressing his body close to the side. His cheek was against the blanket, his eyelids heavy, and Castle brushed a hand down the back of his head before he stood up straight.

"You ready?" Kate said softly.

He nodded and Kate reached for him, her fingers gripping his forearm for just a moment before she let go again. He followed her out of the room.

* * *

The morning worked exactly as they'd planned.

Mason made emergency contact with his handler and it was brought to Castle's immediate attention, as per procedure. Kate could see the moment it happened. There was a brief conference with those who'd been in on the Prague op in the first place, and then a call to the Director. It was the Director who ordered them to cover the CIA's ass in Prague, and his growling warning over the speaker phone was more impressive than Mason's _I'm taking fire; my asset needs extraction._

It actually made Kate stand up straighter, her eyes flashing to her husband's. Someone in the conference room cleared his throat and the moment was broken, but the Director had already hung up.

_You see to this personally; you owe me, Richard. She does too._

Okay, Mason might have sold that a little too well.

They might be in trouble with the Director if they couldn't prove they'd cleaned this up to his standards. And now they had another man in power telling them they owed him favors. Which they already did, for her being given house arrest, as fucked up as that was.

"Beckett and I will handle this," Castle said finally.

Omkar was in the room and he opened his mouth, but Kate shot him a look and he blinked, shut his mouth again. At least she'd managed to control her people; Omkar was a good analyst and she didn't want him questioning things too closely.

"There's a flight out of Langley," Ryan started. He was in charge of the technical division, but he'd have her analysts while she was out with Castle. He didn't seem happy with them being yanked around by the Director, but of course he had their back.

"Thanks, Ry," Kate answered.

Everyone's head turned to look at her and she knew she was the one they expected to protest. Leaving her son this soon. So she sat up straighter in her chair and met the eyes of their people in this room.

"We don't leave our people hanging. You guys know that. I'm not any more important than you are. Mason needs our help; he needs it now. Castle and I trust that you guys will take care of things here while we do this."

There was an unspoken thread in her words that - of course - no one was going to bring up. They had James's safety and protection in their hands, while she and Castle couldn't for the next few days. These people knew how they'd fought for their family, and each man and woman in this room was going to carry that responsibility.

Ryan leaned in, elbows on the table. "We got your back."

She smiled and nodded, and already Castle was standing up from the head of the table. She followed suit and the rest of their team did as well, a strange kind of salute as she and Castle headed for the door.

"We'll take that flight out of Langley," Castle said. "When we get to Mason, we'll make contact."

"Godspeed," Omkar called after them.

They were on their way.

But not to Prague. They were going to Paris.


	6. Chapter 6

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

Castle was hunched over, elbows on his knees as the military plane made its final approach. But Kate was tired of tiptoeing around her husband; they had to do this and there was no use grieving over it.

It was only four days.

She'd already learned that when Castle wanted to have a pity party, when he wanted to be dramatic and so very _Martha_, then nothing she said would soothe him. It actually made him feel better to vent his emotions, to whine and moan and be doomsday, and just have someone listen to it.

Funny, because if you had told her when they first met that Castle would be this man, she'd never have believed it. He'd been the calculating badass of a spy who had kidnapped her off the side of the road, heedless of courtesy or protocol, doing whatever he damn well pleased to get the job done.

He was still that man, but it revolved around something completely different now.

Love.

It was about his family, her, their life together. It wasn't about the machine, the mission. It was getting results, yes, but for an entirely new cause. Maybe - as Black no doubt saw - that looked weak. Maybe having a pity party about leaving their son behind wasn't ideal, but it was human, and it was kind of beautiful too, and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

His feelings, his emotion - of course they ended up incorporated into his mission - his _life_ mission. Rick Castle was a father, a husband, and those roles were inseparable from the spy. She'd been reconciled to this new creation the moment he had shown up in a cave in Russia, intent on saving her life come hell or high water or his own demise.

It was that combination that had saved her - both the man and the spy together who had done the saving. Man and spy had come back for her and then gotten her out of Russia. When they'd first met on the Chinese spy case, she'd seen him at civil war, one side wrestling with the other, but loving him, being loved by him, that had transcended the battle.

There was no need for him to be a man at war with his nature. He was the best of both worlds, a feeling professional, and it made him all the better a man for it too. She was grateful for it, for how Castle could be moved to mercy on the job and for the consummate power he brought to their relationship.

So if she had to deal with moody and introspective Rick while they flew into Ramstein, then so be it.

The plane bumped once as it landed, and Castle immediately reached up and unhooked the harness, ripping it off his body. She stayed silent, watching him, ready to be what he needed when he was ready to go.

Castle stood on the cargo deck of the plane even as it rolled down the runway towards the hangars at the far end. She watched the tic in his jaw and the furious in and out of his chest as he breathed. It took a moment, but she could actually see him layer on his frustration and anger and helplessness like armor, sheathing himself with it, shielding his heart from his father's machinations by the force of all that emotion.

She was the opposite, but she loved seeing it in him.

He turned and the plane bumped to a stop, engines beginning to cycle down, noises from outside as the ground team secured the plane. Castle took a step towards her and reached in, used one hand to unsnap her harness.

So he was ready then, ready to go.

Beckett slid out of the webbing and got to her feet, stood beside Castle to face what came next.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when they got to Bern and that little landing strip. Kate looked cold but determined, and he knew they wouldn't be stopping any time soon - not for her sake anyway. The plane was already waiting for them, a little two-seater, and the pilot came out from the narrow trailer at the head of the runway.

Castle came to a stop, holding back as the man approached. The pilot rubbed a hand over his grizzled chin and cleared his throat, turned his head to spit on the ground. He smelled like chewing tobacco and jet fuel.

"You the little worms?" he asked. "Cause I'm the big bird."

Castle grit his teeth and didn't let it show. "That's us."

"Well, go down the gullet. Plane's fueled up; I'll do my safety checks and we'll go."

"I'll be your second," Castle said pointedly.

The pilot crossed his arms over his chest but Castle wasn't leaving it to chance. He'd never had this man personally in a mission before and Castle hadn't made it to forty years of age by _trusting_ other people.

Kate reached out and took the bag from him, hefted it over her own shoulder. They had a change of clothes each - all in black of course - and a few weapons, some money, their alt IDs. Not much else. Oh, the breast pump. Fuck, he'd forgotten about that.

No, no. He wasn't thinking about that right now.

"All right, be my second. Let's get on with it." Big Bird stalked away, heading back for the trailer, and Castle gave Beckett a quick glance and followed. He took the clipboard held out to him and scanned the list of safety checks, but it looked normal, as it should.

Kate had put down the stairs by the time they got back to the plane; she'd already crawled up into the belly, strapped herself in. She was rummaging through the back when he glanced in the cockpit window, and he saw her bring out one of the Sigs.

Doing safety checks of her own.

Castle didn't speak, simply followed the pilot and double-checked his inspection of the plane. It was a well-cared-for machine, everything properly done, all those little details paid attention to. Big Bird took the clipboard from him but he didn't return it to the trailer; he took it with him into the cockpit.

They did the pre-flight instrument check together, the pilot speaking quietly as he tested the systems and Castle responded. The clipboard stayed, and the plane passed inspection, and Castle turned around in the co-pilot's seat, met Beckett's eyes.

"Strap in."

She nodded and he saw - she already was.

* * *

They touched down in a little airstrip outside of Versailles called Saint Cyr, and there was a harrowing moment when the runway was definitely running out - had to be less than regulation 6,000 feet, she could swear. But then the plane slowed at the last second and came to a stop at the little concrete bunker of a building.

Castle shot her a look as they got out, but she shook her head. It was deep night and they'd arrived, and they were going to meet his father in Paris. She had enough to worry about without rehashing that flight experience - best to just let it go. Par for the course.

The pilot ignored them, didn't say a word, but that was all for the better; he'd take care of the plane and check in with the ground crew. That left her and Castle to walk casually away from the runway and into the night without papers or visas or official trails.

Kate jumped from the last step to the pavement below, pressed her elbows to her sides as the wind lashed over the runway. Her leather jacket didn't seem enough, and she tugged the thin cashmere hoody closer around her neck.

Castle came at her back, pressed his fingers to her spine. "You ready?"

"Ready," she confirmed. She strode across the tarmac and headed for the concrete bunker beside the runway. Castle followed, but she bypassed the official welcoming crew and moved to the gate, flipped up the metal bar and held it open.

Castle went through first, and she saw the Sig in his waistband as his shirt rode up. He was reaching past her for the gate, and he closed it after her with a soft click, raising an eyebrow. She nodded and led the way, following the clearly marked lines on the pavement away from the runway. They were still within the air field's complex, and she was taking care not to attract attention from the various personnel.

"Out there," he murmured. "That way."

Beckett nodded, moving along the chainlink fence towards the far gate. A brown meadow ran parallel to the air field, and she walked quickly, glancing through the fence towards the open sky and the buildings in the distance before she came to the gate. Castle moved past her and put his shoulder to the chainlink, keeping her from opening it.

"What?" she said.

"You okay?"

Beckett blinked. "Yeah. I'm - fine. Why?"

"You seem off, Kate."

She scraped her hand back through her hair and was brought up short by the bun knotted at her nape. "Castle. It's long past midnight and I just dumped my kid with my father for the next week and hopped on a plane to meet _your_ father in Paris. It's just... not ideal."

He grimaced and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he flipped the latch and pushed open the gate, gestured for her to go ahead of him. Beckett paused to look at him closely, but the hard set of his mouth and the blankness in his eyes gave nothing away.

She didn't want to be here. If he'd doubted that, if he'd thought maybe she'd gotten tired of playing the wife and mother, then she hoped she had just cleared that up.

But they had no other choice.

* * *

They moved through Saint Cyr in the dead of night, heading resolutely for the train station, shoulder to shoulder this time because he didn't want to attract attention being one or two paces behind her. The streets were deserted but for the occasional walk of shame or a handful of still laughing college kids fresh from last call.

At the open-air train station, Kate stepped up to the ticket kiosk and pushed a metro card into the slot, loaded it with the credit card from her ID packet. She stepped back and handed the metro card to him; he switched and gave her the empty he'd had in his pocket.

She repeated the procedure, while Castle kept his eyes on the two open entrances to the train station. It was nothing more than a few concrete walls, an enclosed area where the empty ticket booth would be manned in the morning. A bank of lockers were opposite the booth, and then the escalators headed down to the platform below.

"Done," she murmured. "Train schedule?"

"We have thirty minutes."

"Want to walk around?"

"Yeah," he agreed. They headed back out of the station together, Castle's hand at Kate's back where her weapon was holstered, ready to draw if he needed. On the security camera's footage, it wouldn't look like anything other than a man escorting his wife back to the sidewalk.

Under the street lamps, Castle took stock of their position and then nodded to the west. She followed his lead and they began to circle the block, killing time until the train to Paris.

"You think I'm off?"

He sighed, but he didn't take his hand off her back, reassured by the gun just under her leather jacket.

"I don't ask because I'm insecure," she said. "I ask because I need to know you trust me in the field."

"I trust you implicitly, Kate."

"Good."

"You're not off. I think just a combination - tired, missing the kid, long day."

"Yeah," she scraped out. "Can we not - talk about him?"

"Right." He understood. Mind on the mission. "Off limits until the job is done, yeah?"

She gave him a flicker of a smile that made her face soften, even under these shadowed lights. "Yeah, babe. You mind?"

"No, love. Not at all."

She nodded, and her smile dropped off, and it was back to business. He didn't mind; they were on their way to Paris, France, with their weapons at their backs and a couple of cover IDs in their pockets.

Felt kind of like a vacation, stupid as that was. "I like being out here with you."

"Feeling's mutual." She bumped her shoulder into his, turning with a duck of her head. It was that move she made when she was going to look at him past the curtain of her hair, only she had it back in a knot at her nape. But it was familiar, that was the thing, and he'd seen it for months now as her hair got longer and longer.

He hooked his pinky in hers and turned the corner back towards the train station, the touch of cool air along his cheeks as they walked into the wind. She shook off his touch and he put his hand at her back again, the faint impression of her Sig.

"You feeling me up, Castle, or are you going for my gun?"

He chuckled. "Can it be both?"

"For you, sweetheart, anything."

Castle broke safety protocol to dart a kiss to her cheek, humming close to her ear to make her laugh. She did, a breathless little sound in her throat, and he saw the pedestrian bridge over the train station coming up ahead of them.

"Hey, hey-" she said suddenly. "Five o'clock. Someone's there."

* * *

Castle swore and she felt him turn front again, but he didn't pick up his pace. She glanced over at him, and the frown had etched so deeply into his brow that his eyes were in shadow.

"Castle?"

"Yeah. Following us."

"See his face?"

"No, you?"

"No," she admitted. "Could be a guy trying to get home."

"Could be."

Could be a tail. The air field at Saint Cyr was well-known in certain circles, but she had thought they would have to risk it for the sake of expediency. Might have been the wrong move on her part.

Castle's fingers pianoed along her spine and hovered close to the butt of her weapon. She was careful to walk precisely so that he always had contact with her, and she kept her eyes open ahead of them.

It was a tense five minutes before Castle let out a breath. "He took the side street."

"Green rain jacket, right?"

"Think so."

"Be on the watch for him later."

"I will," he murmured. His hand dropped fractionally, skimmed her ass as he moved ahead of her, probably unintentional but it made her smile. Castle came to the beginning of the footbridge over the train tracks and stopped.

Beckett stopped as well, waiting on him for the all-clear. He put his hands on his hips and turned in a slow circle, his eyes studying every shadow and searching every hiding place until he seemed satisfied. He nodded to her, a brief glance her way, and then he jerked his head towards the foot bridge.

"Sitting ducks."

She nodded. "True."

"What do you say?"

"Sniper would get us anywhere, don't you think? If it's green jacket, then we'd see him coming a mile away."

"Good point," he nodded. "All right, let's take the bridge back around."

She went first, moving past him to step onto the metal trestle. The bridge was made of intricate-designed grates laid over support beams that traveled over the train tracks below. It was probably six stories, a long drop, but the bridge was caged to prevent jumpers.

Castle walked behind her, a light step so that she barely felt the vibrations in her shoes. She was in boots with a minimal heel, dark wash jeans, her clothes designed to let her fade into the background of the night, fade in a person's memory as well.

Once they were over the bridge, they kept their eyes peeled for the man in the green jacket, for anything really, but there were no other incidents. They took the stairs down to the platform below, and Castle sat down on one of the plastic benches to wait out the last of their time.

Castle was in black, of course, t-shirt with jeans, heavy work boots. He'd cut his hair short a few weeks back so the addition of a pair of black glasses gave him an entirely different look. Faintly German, she thought, and she liked running her fingers over his nape to feel the bristle of short hair there.

She stepped up to the bench and reached out, laid her hand on his shoulder. Castle tilted his head to the side to look up at her, smiled. She pressed her thumb into his slow pulse, scratched lightly at his neck through his hair.

"James does that too," he murmured. His eyes shot back to hers. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," she answered. He looked chastised, but she didn't want that. "Now I understand why you cut it so short."

He gave her a sheepish grin and her heart thumped for him, a startled little jump like she'd accidentally touched a live wire. She came in closer and Castle's arm slipped around her waist, his hand close to her weapon, always paying attention, always ready to act.

So Kate let herself relax a little, running her fingers up the side of his neck and around his ear, waiting for the train to Paris.

* * *

They rode in silence and disembarked at the Montparnasse station. Following the _sortie_ signs, they took the escalator to the upper level and walked through the soaring archway and out into the main hall. Despite the too-early morning hour, commuters had begun to fill the tiled floor, a few eateries were selling coffee and breakfast foods.

Castle stopped her and she nodded, a flicker of relief in her eyes. He ordered them two _cafes creme_ and a _pain au chocolat_ to share, which she confiscated from him and scarfed down before their coffees were even ready.

The man behind the counter chuckled and rang up a second, and Castle dutifully paid for their order, took the chocolate croissant he handed over. Kate eyed it, but the man set a coffee on the glass counter and Kate took that instead.

They walked as Castle ate his breakfast, hot coffee in its cardboard to-go cup wafting steam towards his face. He sipped at the beverage and let Beckett lead them out, through the chrome and glass facade and onto the street.

"We'll head down the block, take a look and finish our coffee, then go back inside and get the metro," she told him.

"Good plan," he murmured. "Coffee's great. Needed it."

A smile flicked across her lips and she put her coffee to her mouth as if to hide it. She knew he was giving her one, that the caffeine pitstop had been for her, but neither of them were going to say it. He finished the croissant and licked his finger for the smudge of chocolate and butter, and then he took her hand.

She squeezed his fingers and then they were two bleary-eyed tourists slipping through the slow beginnings of early morning rush hour. Castle nursed his coffee so he wouldn't rush her, and she was taking small sips and window shopping, a good cover to check their tail.

"Anything?" he said.

"That little silver and gold necklace." She pointed into a shop window and Castle leaned in close, checked the reflection in the glass.

But he didn't see anything. And then he realized she was teasing him. "Ah, this one, huh?"

She laughed softly, nudged him with her elbow. "Nah. Got nothing, babe."

She had a sly look when he met her eyes, and he tried to remember the necklace for later - if they got a later here in Paris, a moment to themselves not on the schedule.

She caught the edge of his jacket and pushed him towards the sidewalk again. He stepped back into the trickle of people heading towards the Gare Montparnasse, and they turned back around for the station themselves.

Kate chucked her empty coffee into the bright green trash can and then took Castle by the hand. "Let's go. Have a meeting with destiny, babe."

* * *

She'd been joking but it did feel rather ominous.

They took a few different lines back and forth, getting on and off stops before they hopped on the metro 12 line at the last second. Castle was grinning and he pressed a hard kiss to her lips as he reached up for the pole. She shook her head back at him and leaned against the doors, watching his face in the fluorescent lights of the subway car.

He looked good. The cropped hair and the dark glasses conspired to give him a faintly superior cast, but it was still her husband's broad shoulders and wide chest, still his hand hooking a finger into the pocket of her leather jacket. She leaned in and kissed him back, two young lovers on their honeymoon trip to Paris.

Young? Maybe not so much any more.

She laughed a little and took a long breath in, cleared her mind of home and family, oriented herself back to the culture around them. The French billboards inside the subway car, the faint but melodic conversation at her right from the two black guys, the hustle of the train down the tracks.

At the next stop, Kate had to shift out of the way of the doors to let a guy get on with his large portable speaker, a violin wired up to the back. He began to play, something classically French, and Kate shared a look with her husband. He rolled his eyes but didn't put his back to the street musician, and Kate wished she had a few euro coins for him.

But she didn't.

The musician played for a few stops and then got off again, and Kate watched Castle as he studied the platform, ascertaining the man's route. The musician must have waited for the next train, as was normal when playing for money, and Castle relaxed.

The train pulled in at the convention center and Kate turned around, her fingers hooked in the latch on the doors. When the subway came to a stop, she pushed up on the latch and the doors popped open, letting them and four others out onto the platform.

Castle led the way, heading for the short flight of stairs up and then the next pair down the tunnel to the main part of the station. A man walking too quickly brushed her back and Kate subtly nudged her hand to her spine, felt her weapon reassuringly close.

Down another long tunnel and then through the _sortie_, where Kate had to push a little on the bar to make the turnstile move. Castle paused ahead of her and waited, then took her hand a moment as if leading her out.

Once above ground again, they took stock to get their bearings, glancing up and down the busy street. The Eiffel Tower was on their immediate horizon, close to the Seine, and the Hotel de la Paix with its Italian architecture loomed almost directly above them.

"Nearly there," he told her.

Castle had done a few jobs out of the Hotel de la Paix when he'd been in Paris on previous assignments, which was why he was leading them to a bed and breakfast a block over. If someone followed them or if Black put out questions about them, they would have been seen in the hotel's vicinity and Castle had told her he hoped assumptions would be made. His father would remember the hotel's name, of course, and draw the conclusion that Castle was attempting to use that lesser-known route and its contacts.

But they weren't.

For her part, Kate thought it was probably pointless to attempt outwitting John Black, but she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable - she needed the breast pump, unfortunately; she needed to get behind closed doors and Castle's bed and breakfast was just fine.

He still held their backpack over one shoulder, though from time to time he had slung it in front of himself, as many other tourists and commuters alike did as well. It held a few items of clothing but mostly what Kate needed were those pills and the breast pump.

"What time is it at home?" she murmured.

Castle was leading them across the street, jaywalking to avoid a knotted crowd at the corner, and he reached back for her hand, a flicker of concern on his face. "Thought you said not to talk about him."

She gave a little laugh, shook her head. "Not that."

He didn't seem to understand and she'd tell him, she would, but she'd rather he direct his attention outward - keep vigilant. "It's six hours behind us," he noted. "So he's been long asleep."

She didn't mean the baby's schedule, but her own was tied to his in that way. If James was down for the night, then she'd missed a feeding and her body was letting her know.

Castle led her right to the sidewalk and stepped into a recessed doorway, ringing the bell at the wrought-iron gate.

"This is it?" she said, surprised. She had thought there'd be a few more doubling-backs, some dodging and weaving. He was being extra careful, and she wasn't stupid enough to contradict him on the safety measures.

"This is it," Castle said. His eyes flicked over her shirt and he winced. "I just realized what you meant, and it's - ah, sorry, love - beginning to show."

Fuck, she was leaking. Kate glanced down and scowled, tugged her leather jacket over her breasts and zipped it. Castle smiled only a little, and she could smack him for it, but he'd been saved by the bell. The bell which had rung the front desk so that now the gate was buzzing loudly to allow them inside. Castle pushed on it and it gave, and they went through into a cramped courtyard.

"The pump is in here?" Castle said as he led the way. He hefted the backpack and she nodded, wondering if half of her irritability was due more to the fact that she'd taken only one pill this morning. One pill because she wouldn't be nursing her son, who was at home and safely asleep no doubt, far from here. One pill and maybe she was craving another.

Maybe this was that withdrawal, just like it had felt after James had been born and she'd stopped taking them, mistakenly thinking they weren't necessary. That was a depressing thought - addicted to them so quickly.

She'd been doubling up on the pills this last week in the hopes of getting a little more milk for James, but - of course - that hadn't happened. Maybe her body was done with it, maybe the stress of an imminent meeting with Black had thrown off her systems, but she'd expressed _less_ milk this past week than ever before.

Of course, now it would choose to come in, making her ache with it, and she had to grind her teeth to focus past the immediate need for that release.

Didn't it always go like this for her? She couldn't get ahead.

"Kate?" he said, a sharp grip on her elbow.

"Sorry, I'm a little distracted."

His smirk fell off a little. He felt badly for her; she could see it back behind his eyes. "Okay, love. How about you go book us a room for six days, and I'll prowl around - get the lay of the land - meet you at the bottom of the stairs in twenty?"

He handed the backpack over to her and she took it, grateful to have something to do that would get her mind off the heaviness in her breasts.

Like he had said, she would reserve them a room for six days instead of the three nights - max - of their mission because it was always safer not to give out their schedule. Made sense. Plus going in alone meant they wouldn't stand out with only one backpack of luggage between them. Plenty of people toured Europe in only a backpack, but of course, usually a backpack each.

"Meet you in twenty," she promised, then winced. "Actually, make it thirty, Castle. This might take me a while."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek, brushed the backs of his fingers daringly over the slope of her breast and down. "Thirty minutes, Kate. If it's a little longer than that, I won't send out a search party."

She sighed, caught his inappropriate hand with a tight squeeze. He only smiled and shook her off, and then he had disappeared around the corner to survey their tactical advantages and likely escape routes.

Kate headed through the courtyard and into the lobby, made polite if tourist-tinged talk with the man at the front desk. She acquired a single room, took the key from the man's disturbingly damp fingers, and headed for the stairs.

Once inside the sparsely furnished room, Kate let out a long breath and unzipped her leather jacket, easing it off her arms as her bra pulled tightly across her chest. Finally, she could get out the breast pump and let her guard down for an instant, knowing Castle was out there and he had her back.

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket so that she could sit on the bed, Kate caught a breath at the way her heart twisted in her chest just seeing the photo of her son's laughing mouth on the lock screen.

She was so damn grateful for the six hour time difference, otherwise she'd have been on skype and calling them, just for another painful twist to her heart, just to _torture _herself with what she couldn't have.

At least this way she had to just get on with it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

Castle hunted below the windows of what he was almost positive would be their rooms at the bed and breakfast. He'd seen Kate through the stairwell window and he'd been quick to pay attention, mostly as a way to test his skills and perceptions.

He'd asked her a few times today, but really, he was the one who felt off.

He shouldn't have been messing around with the serum. But how could Castle have known his father would choose this exact week to fuck with them? He'd been experimenting with the drugs and the supplements for months now, and usually it was no big deal, but the last few weeks had been rough.

So he was outside the bed and breakfast, slipping between the buildings via a rank alley in an effort to push himself, test himself, find out where his limits were this time. He wasn't tired, wasn't hungry, he just felt an awareness that seemed out of proportion to the mission.

That thing in St Cyr at the train station, walking the block with Beckett to scope it out and keep on the move - he'd felt it then. How his brain was receiving sensory information that just wasn't there.

A little test then. See how bad it was, how paranoid he'd gotten. Unreasonably paranoid versus rationally paranoid - that was the issue. The problem. If he was reacting from the gut and his gut was leaky, then they were in trouble. But if he was reacting from twenty plus years in the service and its combined subtle insinuations and tremors, then there was something else going on here.

More than his father's threat to destroy his family if Kate didn't meet a contact. A Collective contact, a person that apparently his father trusted only so far, who had information that they - 'they' - needed.

Perhaps they did. Perhaps not. That wasn't the thing that made Castle's eyes see shadows and his ears hear unnatural silence and his fingers itch for his gun. Or Kate's gun. Something to protect them.

He'd had this sensation a few times before. Flying over the English channel when the bombs hadn't gone off. Right before a man tried to cut his hand off. And the moment he'd walked into that island courtyard and seen Kate with his father and Deleware leading him like lamb to slaughter.

He'd murdered Deleware for touching his wife. Not self-defense, not necessary really, though it had been one less to worry about. Cold-blooded murder wasn't his wife's way, wasn't ever what she wanted for them - for blood to be their family's foundation - but Deleware had betrayed more than just marriage vows or a country, and Castle had acted in accordance with what his instincts had told him were true.

Was that the problem now?

Maybe so. Not Deleware, but his father's continuing personal betrayal. Maybe Rick Castle was - when it came right down to it - still a five year old boy waiting for his father's car service and thinking to himself, _Now she can't keep me from him. Now my father will come for me._

Castle had thought he'd murdered that in him. He had thought his _father_ had killed it dead when he'd put Kate on her knees and held a gun to her head, finger at the trigger. Castle had been through years of therapy now, figuring that shit out, and he had been certain he'd hacked it off, dug it out of him, the need for his father's approval.

But he hadn't.

And if that was the case, if something still buried sick and dark and deep inside Castle wanted his father to love him, then there was good fucking reason for Castle to be paranoid and watching his wife's back and feeling ill at ease.

Because it would all go so very wrong if Castle leaned in towards his father.

He would lose everything. He would lose her if - for one moment - he broke rank.

He couldn't break. This wasn't the time to break.

No, Rick Castle needed to find a way around that five year old. Killing him hadn't worked. Killing him had only made him sicker, more twisted, desperate. Killing... Kate kept reviving him. That was the real problem. Kate touched him there, in the darkest and most desperate places, and she fed the lost little boy of him. She made him less afraid, less dark, less dangerous.

She made him grow up. She'd made him a _father._

James.

Castle closed his eyes and pressed his back against the brick, sucking in a breath that scraped his throat.

James.

Whatever small, twisted thing was in Castle absolutely _had_ to grow up for his son, his son, his little boy who needed him. John Black could go to fucking hell; John Black was _not _going to destroy his family.

Castle opened his eyes and stepped into the alley and kept going.

Test his limits. Find the reach of his endurance. Figure this out.

For Kate. For his son.

* * *

She didn't know what to do with the milk. Fuck.

She was late now for their rendezvous but Castle had actually mentioned to her that lateness was allowed - thank you, Rick, for that, she thought, rolling her eyes. But she hastily adjusted her clothes, a clean t-shirt now, and she dumped the milk in the bathroom sink and watched it spin down the drain.

She felt kind of sick.

It was contrary to everything she'd been working towards for the past - shit - nearly two years now. It felt like betrayal to her son, betrayal to Castle when he wasn't at all happy about her taking the damn pills in the first place, and most of all, a betrayal to herself.

She wasn't where she wanted to be.

She was falling apart a little bit, and that wasn't okay.

_Get it together, Beckett._

It was fine; it was life. Shit happened, especially to them, and she had chosen that when she'd entered the Police Academy. Her motivation, true, had been her mother's murder - a thing done _to_ her - but the choices were all hers. Kate's alone. Her mother's murder was cleared and the reasons known, but here she was in Paris.

Because it was obvious that Kate Beckett was more than just her mother's murder. Had always been more than that, but the existence of Rick Castle in her life had put a kind of bold and underline to it. She _knew_ it now, what she stood for, what she wanted from life, what was important.

Her husband, her son. The quality of their lives but also the quality of their characters - and her own. She couldn't expect to influence those things, to shape those things, if she ignored a summons from John Black and instead simply hid in the panic room.

That wasn't life. These were her decisions, and while being away from her son for four days wasn't ideal, it also wasn't the end of the world. Dumping her milk down the drain was just - another thing she had to do.

She was determined to move past this. No betrayal here, Kate, just the realities of existence.

So she ran water in the sink and washed the breast milk down the drain, glancing at her watch to check the time. She was overdue by five minutes now and not willing to test Castle's overactive imagination.

Kate cleaned the pump and repacked it, tugged the backpack on over her shoulders. Her leather jacket was supple and warm from the heat inside the room, and she hooked her fingers under the straps of the bag as she left.

Kate locked the door behind her, slipped the key into the inside pocket of her jacket, and then she turned for the stairs.

Her husband was waiting on the landing, in shadows like only he could ever find, but he had an easy smile for her and he looked calm.

"I'm late," she admitted.

"I figured. You good now?"

"Should be for a while," she told him. He was heading the opposite direction of the front door, leading them down a hallway, through the kitchens, and out the back exit. Of course.

"I should have asked before," he said softly. "But what's the schedule, love?"

"Even if you had asked, not sure I could tell you," she said cryptically, rolling her eyes. "I've been trying to pump more often, took a couple extra pills to - you know - keep up my reserves, but it hasn't worked so hot."

"James has nursed every night so far," he said, giving her a calculating look. While she normally thoroughly enjoyed Castle's long perusal of her breasts, this didn't feel quite the same.

She smacked his chest as they stepped out onto the main street, and he caught her hand with a quirk of a smile. "He's gotten what he needs," she told him. "Don't worry. I just wanted extra, and it didn't happen, and I guess _now_ it is."

He was smiling at her. That soft smile that meant he loved her - a lot - and it was hitting him strangely because he was amused. Sometimes that was a little insufferable, but Kate was determined to make the most of today, of their time in Paris, even if it was a mission to meet his father.

Castle circled her hand with two fingers, turned her palm down as he angled her watch towards him.

"Meeting's in... forty minutes," Castle said. "We have some time if you want to explore the area. Relax a little."

"Yes, please," she grinned. "The last time we were here it was work, work, work."

He smirked, a short shake of his head. "And then cave, cave, cave."

Kate laughed, surprised by his easy joke. "Well, my Russian sabbatical wasn't exactly a vacation destination."

"Uh-huh. And the whole getting stuck in a freezer thing wasn't ideal either. But if you're willing to give Paris another chance..."

Kate flipped her hand and caught his fingers. "Let's play tourist, Castle."

* * *

The Eiffel Tower was different seeing it through Kate's eyes. They approached from the Champ de Mars, a landscaped park much like the Mall in DC, but the Tower was so dominant before them that little else could be noticed.

"It was built for the World's Fair of 1889," he murmured, waiting with her as she slowed to a halt before the tower. "The entrance arch, make an impression, you know. Prove that Paris was the center of the world. It was supposed to be temporary."

"Temporary."

"They had to promise to take it down. It was considered an eyesore, ruined the landscape."

"And now it's synonymous with Paris," she smiled. "I can't believe - 1889? I mean, it's over a thousand feet tall, right?'

"Hm, three hundred and twenty meters, yeah, I think that's right. Thousand feet."

"People are climbing up," she noted. "You think we can do that?"

Castle winced. "Have to get tickets months in advance, Kate."

"Damn. Too bad." Kate nudged him and he realized she was pulling out her phone and googling it. "Holy - listen to this - it's as tall as an 81-story building, Castle."

"Yeah, just wait until we get closer."

Kate bit her bottom lip and lifted her hand to block the morning sun, staring ahead of them towards the Eiffel. "We have time for that?"

They had a meeting in Le Castel Cafe, of course, because his father thought it would be amusing, no doubt, and until then, he and Kate could get lost in the crowds without fear.

"Come on," he encouraged, nudging her towards the structure. He reached down and took her phone from her hands. "You walk and gawk, and I'll read from the wikipedia page."

"Ew, you know me better than that," she said.

Castle glanced down at her phone and saw she'd connected to the official website. He chuckled and took her by the wrist, wriggling until he'd laced their fingers together. "Okay then, I'll read from the untainted history."

"Please," she hummed, grinning over at him.

He led her forward, letting her stare up at the Eiffel while he guided her away from other groups of tourists. "All right. Ready? Let's see, ah, here we go. 'The projected tower came under heavy criticism from the art community which felt that engineering had no place in the design.' Ha, isn't that-"

"No comments from the peanut gallery. Read."

He narrowed an eye at her but she only waited, so he gave it up, kept reading. "A Committee of Three Hundred was formed - one member for - holy shit - each meter. That is going overboard, don't you think? I mean-"

"What did I say about the commentary, Rick?"

He grunted. "Fine. 'We, writers, painters, sculptors, architects and passionate devotees of the hitherto untouched beauty of Paris, protest with all our strength, with all our indignation in the name of slighted French taste, against the erection-"

Here Castle snorted; he couldn't help himself, and Kate let out a breath. When he took a cringing look over at her, she had her lips pressed together and he could tell she was trying not to laugh. He'd gotten her.

"Never mind the official history," she told him primly. "Impressive enough to require silence."

She gave a brief nod towards the base of the Eiffel, and he smothered another smile to lead her that direction. Along the way, Castle slipped her phone into her back pocket, wriggling it a little to tease, and he got a hip bump for it. But neither of them spoke, and they kept quiet until they'd come under the iconic, wrought-iron Tower.

"It's bigger than I expected," she said. There was reverence in her voice. "People built this. Men built this, Castle. It's - Each base is a compass point; do you see that?"

See it? Beckett was the one with the lodestone in her blood. "My little homing pigeon."

She laughed, knocking her hand into his pec so that he flinched. He shut up again, letting her take it in.

"1889. That was a hundred years ago, Rick, but only one man died. The whole time, the whole project, and they only lost one man."

Castle glanced over at her and saw she'd craned her neck to look up. They were at the east base of the tower now, buffeted by people heading for the line that would wind its way up, but she was unyielding. He saw her sway as she stared up, and she quickly jerked her head down, reaching out to catch his arm, blinking hard.

"Whoa, hey there."

"Think I need more coffee," she laughed. "Actually, I need real food, Castle. We had lunch on the way to Langley, but no dinner-"

"Shit. My fault. I'll find us something." He jerked forward, but Kate held him back, chuckling as she pushed her palms against his shoulders, physically blocking him. He frowned.

Kate shook her head, patting his chest. "Calm down, super spy. Let's walk under the Eiffel, see the whole thing, and cross the bridge to the other side of the Seine. Then stop somewhere over there for food. How's that?"

"Perfect," he agreed immediately. He knew she wouldn't suggest it unless she could actually make it, though it wasn't like it was that far a walk. He was overreacting just a little; yeah, he could tell. He saw it.

Kate slid her fingers down his arm and circled his wrist, tugged him gently with her. When they stood directly below the Tower, they both tilted their heads back to look.

The sky was blue between the iron lattice-work, the height so impressive that it actually took his breath away.

"You're bringing me back here," she said. "When this is done, sometime, whenever. We're coming back here and we're going to the top."

He took a long, last look at the pinnacle, a rough breath in through his lungs, cold air and the sharp morning.

"We'll take the stairs," he promised.

Bring James.

* * *

Kate wolfed down a sandwich on brioche, thick slices of ham and melted cheese on a bun. And egg, so that the yellow ran down over her grip and she had to suck on her thumb and fingers to keep it from staining her sleeve. She had never tasted such a well-made egg.

Castle kept nudging her in the right direction as they walked, pushing her back towards the bridge, guiding her so that she could focus on eating her breakfast. She had another cup of coffee too, and the caffeine hit was doing wonders.

Once they were back over the bridge, they headed for the cafe where they were meeting up with his father. Castle pushed her to take a right at the corner, and she stepped over a crack in the sidewalk and onto the street. They had the light at the crosswalk and Kate finished off her sandwich, threw the paper in the trash as they passed.

The buildings were only four or five stories in this section, dwarfed by the Eiffel Tower on the immediate horizon. Kate glanced behind her to check it out again, smiled when Castle wriggled his eyebrows at her. She still had coffee left, but she wanted her hands free for their meeting, so she threw it away as well.

The cafes here were plentiful, catering to the tourist crowd, and the sidewalks were covered with colorful awnings. People were thick before and behind them, and just as they crossed another block, fat raindrops peppered them from the sky.

"Shit," Castle muttered. "I don't want the rain to drive people indoors. We need the cover."

"It's not too bad," she offered. Even as she spoke, the rain picked up, splashes on her cheeks and forehead, trickling down her ear to her neck. It turned from a drizzle into a shower in seconds, getting them both wet, and she felt the chill soak down under the collar of her jacket.

Castle took her by the hand and they picked up their pace, walking under canopies when they could, ducking into doorways and then out again, not staying in one place for too long. The crowd began to thin, but it wasn't too bad. They still had cover.

Le Castel Cafe was on the corner, the maroon awning and discreet lettering indicated they had arrived. Kate huddled against the facade of the Starbucks across the street, Castle at her side as they surveyed the area.

"What do you think?" she asked. The rain had become uncomfortable now, and she unraveled the rubberband from her hair and scraped her fingers through its damp strands. Castle was watching the Cafe through the rain, and so Kate used that moment to redo her hair, pushing it back into a bun off of her neck this time.

"You good?"

"Better," she admitted. "How's it look?"

"We'll stay here for another few minutes, then go in and check it out."

"Okay," she agreed readily. She knew Castle's paranoia, and they were here because of her, so she would do whatever he required to assuage his sense of security.

"Looks warm in there," he offered.

Her mouth twisted in amusement for how he was trying for her - partners, right? - but she was okay. "I've got a leather jacket. You, on the other hand, are a little conspicuous in only a t-shirt."

"I've heard that one before," he said. He was still watching the cafe. She took his coffee cup from him and stole a hit of caffeine, studying the sidewalk to watch their backs.

She handed it over but he shook his head, still not taking his eyes off the cafe.

"You keep it," he murmured. "I'm good."

Kate smiled and sipped at his coffee, a little too sugary for her, but she'd take it.

She had just finished it off when Castle spoke again. "So far, so good. I'll leave you here, take a slow loop through the place, then signal you from inside when it's clear."

He hadn't looked at her yet, his eyes still scouring the place, and Kate pursed her lips as he stepped forward.

"Aye-aye, Captain," she snarked.

Castle broke, glanced at her, and he had a little twist of his lips in amusement. "Ah."

She raised an eyebrow and he came back, softly kissed her cheek. She wrapped an arm around his neck and nudged her hips into his.

"You still watching?" he murmured.

"My eyes haven't left the entrance," she answered. And they hadn't, of course.

They were taking their fun where they could find it, but she wasn't stupid. They were set to meet John Black.

Being paranoid was going to save their lives.


	8. Chapter 8

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

Castle took a third sweep through the cafe, even though he was getting a strange look from the waitress for it. He wanted that, the attention of the establishment, because extra eyes on them would prevent John Black from doing something - unforgivable.

He hoped.

There were too many variables in this situation, but they didn't have much choice. Castle satisfied himself there was nothing untoward - no strange packages, no men alone with too much awareness, no chairs askew.

The waitress at the front gave him a look and Castle pointed to the table he'd staked out in the back corner. Through the front windows, he could already see Kate crossing the street towards Le Castel. He sat down on the bench against the wall, his back comfortingly against the hard wood, and he scanned the room as he waited.

Beckett slipped into the chair across from his, but he shook his head and scooted deeper into the corner. "Keep his back to the place, not ours."

She stood again and sat down beside him on the bench seat, wriggling against his side. "You're stuck in the corner," she noted. "Want to switch?"

Wasn't ideal but if he had to, he could jump over the cafe table. "You don't like being in the corner either."

She laid her hand on his knee. "Yeah, but you..."

He lifted his eyebrows.

Kate shook her head and turned her eyes back to the cafe, shrugging him off. He studied the line of her profile for a moment, and then followed her lead, drifting into silence.

When the waitress came their way to see what they wanted, she didn't look very happy about it. Probably because he'd picked out his own table and arranged things exactly as he wanted them. People didn't respond well to being managed.

Kate ordered them both coffee and glasses of water, but she also asked for a bowl of soup du jour, giving Castle a quick look in question as if making sure that was okay. The waitress, in turn, gave Kate such a sympathetic smile that it made Castle think.

"Am I too controlling?" he murmured, concerned only about _her_ answer to that question.

Kate shifted away from him, but apparently just so she could look him in the eye. He gave the question its due by not looking away; he steadily regarded her, waiting on her word.

"No," she said.

He nodded, flattening a palm to the table. "That's good."

"Why'd you ask?"

"I prefer to have my own way. And be in control."

"Well... yes." She laid her hand over his, fingers stroking on top of his knuckles. "Don't we all, though?"

"Ah, well, specifically, I came inside and stalked through the cafe and generally did whatever the hell I wanted to. And then when you joined me, I told you where to sit. The waitress had an interesting look on her face when she came over here."

"Fuck her," Kate said, a little shrug, no heat.

Castle chuckled, flipped his hand to grasp hers.

"No, seriously, Castle. Doesn't matter what our waitress thinks about a five-minute glimpse into two peoples' lives she can't even possibly begin to comprehend."

"You have a point," he smiled.

But she wasn't finished. "You were right to tell me to move - I didn't want to have the whole place to my back. And this way Black has that dubious honor."

"That was my thinking."

"Don't apologize for doing your job."

He hesitated because this wasn't an ideal time for a deep conversation, but it was the kind of thing they would talk about in therapy if they still went regularly. They had at least twenty minutes before they needed to be on the lookout for Black, so it was a good a time as any.

"I don't want my job to creep over into our relationship," he said finally. "I don't want to boss you around, arrange things to _my_ satisfaction simply because I'm used to-"

"Castle," she interrupted. "Do you think I'd let you boss me around? It's _me_ you're talking to here."

He chuckled, shifting his eyes to the side to catch a glimpse of her. She was leaned away from him, her hand still cradled in his on top of the table, but her lips were curled into a smirk.

The waitress took that moment to return, setting their coffees before them, but something on her face softened towards Castle when she saw him. Her eyes flicked to Kate and then back to him with a duck of her head, like she'd changed her mind.

He hoped his son saw that in him. Or in Kate at least. He wanted James to see a good man when he looked at his father; he wanted his son to see respect and love and how he cherished Kate.

"Don't worry about this, Rick," she murmured. She shook off his hand and touched his face, rubbed her thumb in the cleft of his chin. "I know seeing your father makes you wonder about it, makes you worry, but there's no need. None at all, babe."

He turned his head into her hand and brushed his lips at her wrist. She was looking at him in that fierce way, like she thought she'd have to do something drastic to make him believe her, but there was no need.

He believed her. He had just wanted to make sure. "I can be a bully," he started quietly. "I don't want to wear you down and just bulldoze my way-"

"Hey," she muttered, nudging his shoulder. "It's not in my nature to lay down, stop fighting. So don't you worry about becoming an overbearing bully. Not gonna let that happen."

He smiled then, dropping his chin to stare into his coffee, clasping both hands around its warmth with his elbows on the table. Beside him, Kate was warm and rain-scented, and apparently not interested in his crap today. He needed her; he really did. She was everything good.

"Love you, babe," he said finally.

"You'd better."

He laughed and caught her look, and she smiled back and kissed his cheek, her fingers wrapped around his bicep.

But when she leaned back, he heard it, soft and sure. "I love you too, Rick." And then, into that good quiet, her sharp breath. "Ah, shit here's Black. He's early."

* * *

There was something wrong.

Beckett wasn't sure if she'd just gotten so caught up in Castle's own swirling emotional vortex when it came to his father or if there was actually something _wrong_ about all of this, but she felt it.

It was quite clearly not going to be good for them.

"Richard," John Black said, before reaching out a hand for the chair opposite them. But he paused and turned to look at Kate. "Katherine. Thank you for being here."

Gratitude after a sure and definite threat to her life? But it didn't look like Black was playing a game with her; he did, actually, appear genuine.

She pressed her hand into Castle's knee to keep his mouth shut and she ran the show, as they had already agreed.

"I wasn't sure if you intended on having Rick here for this, at least I wasn't in the beginning, but I think now you were."

Black's face was decidedly neutral and Beckett knew that she'd gotten that one right. So the threats were nothing more than theatre, a show, just as she and Castle had been staging a production for Black ever since... shit, ever since Tunisia.

"Well, here I am," Castle said then. Evidently he saw the truth of it as well. "Next time, just ask me. Don't threaten my wife and my son."

"James," Black said, more than a little relish in his voice. It made Kate's fingers grip Castle's knee and he, in response, laid his hand over hers and covered her.

"Is that what this is really about?" Kate asked.

"Of course," Black sniffed. He waved away the question and turned as the waitress approached their table. He ordered in perfect French, an omelette and coffee and a basket of bread, _merci_.

"All that effort to get Castle here. And you want to talk about our son?" Kate asked. She could see how the flinch went over him when she said _our son_, like Black was still getting used to the taste of her ownership over any part at all of his precious legacy.

That was fine. She didn't mind that. Some women had impossible in-laws, cried after every holiday visit. At least Kate only saw hers when _she_ allowed it. The murderous part of him, well, Kate was figuring out how to work that too.

"I want to talk about your son. My grandson."

Castle leaned forward, as if to intimidate, but Black held up a hand.

"Please," his father said. "We said we were done with games, did we not? For the boy's sake. This isn't a game."

But it had been a game, to get them here. That had been cleverly devised and executed, the threat to her life and her family. Though, truthfully, maybe that wasn't a game at all - she still couldn't trust a single thing out of his mouth.

Kate wrapped a hand around her coffee mug and slowly took a sip, just to give her time to think.

No, none of this was a game, regardless of how Black played things.

"What is this about?" she said, settling her coffee cup back on its saucer. "You have a meeting with the Collective that I'm to take."

"Yes, in about twenty-four hours, actually. A park. Just you and her."

"Her?" Castle said sharply.

"My contact."

"A woman."

"Are you opposed to a woman in such-"

"Shut the hell up," Castle said, but there wasn't much to it. She could see that he was trying to think, that his father's continued words slid insidiously between the cracks in his psyche and he was trying to push them out again.

So Beckett needed to do what she could to help him stay strong. "Your contact is a woman. And I'm to meet her because you don't trust the whole set-up."

"Correct."

"Why don't you trust her? You did before, and now you don't."

Black narrowed his eyes - just a fraction, that was all, but his ruined face kept giving him away. The sloped side of his face where Castle had done so much damage often revealed things Black obviously never meant to. She could use that to their advantage.

"All right," Beckett said softly. "You don't trust her. She stopped giving you information?"

Black let out a little sigh, as if he felt this whole thing beneath him, but Kate saw immediately that he was doing it to cover some strong response. Before she could pounce on that, the waitress came back with Black's food and coffee, and then she topped off their cups as well.

Kate mixed in another sugar cube and the last cup packet of creamer, letting all three of them have a moment to collect their bearings. She sipped her coffee and felt Castle at her side, warm and riddled with tension, felt the porcelain under her fingers. Castle pressed against her helped to keep her from shivering with the chill she still felt down in her bones, like she hadn't escaped the rain.

"Your contact in the Collective," Kate began. "She used to provide you with much more, didn't she?"

She had only meant _information_, but Castle sat up stiffly beside her and made a noise, and Black's eyes had that silvery, fox-like cast to them that told her there was a different kind of information before them now.

"You fucked her," Castle breathed.

Oh.

Oh, well, that made sense. "Smart," she murmured.

Black shot her a look that was both astonished and horrified, and she actually kind of liked that - how he was appalled by her approval and by his own gratification that she understood.

Castle made no response to her comment; he only went on the attack with his father. "You fucked her and made her think she was important and now she knows better and you're the one who's fucked. Is that it?"

That was it. Kate sighed and sat back against the bench, felt Castle quivering rather indignantly beside her. For her sake, she knew, and also because there were still issues surrounding Turner, who had been a spy, and what Black had done to Castle back then.

"When was the last time you saw her - or met with her?" Kate asked.

"I don't see-"

"I need to know," she cut in. "You can't possibly think I'd do this without a full debrief. I need the facts. Whatever they are. No judgments from me about what you did or didn't do - I'm just looking to keep us _all_ alive. The more I know, the easier that is."

"That's not to say I'm not judging," Castle said then, a little sardonic.

"Judging," Black answered, snark in his voice. Kate was reminded suddenly of how Castle had once characterized his father to her - unfeeling, cold as ice. He wasn't any more, and she knew that was due to her as well.

She'd broken the ice on them both - Black and Castle. She'd fucked up the whole plan with her intensity and her emotion and her messy life.

She kind of enjoyed it. And she wanted, however nastily, to let Black know it.

"You care," she said. "You really do care what he thinks of you. Your son. And James as well, when the time comes. You think I'll poison him against you, just like I poisoned Castle. And it shows all over your face, John. You _feel_ things. You are just as much a broken machine as he is."

Black clenched a fist around his fork and his eyes turned into dark flames. She felt it in her chest like she'd gotten the wind knocked out of her, and she was perversely glad.

He absolutely hated her, hated what she'd done to him, to his son. But he was a lot like her, Black was. He was going to take life as it came and make of it what he could. Just like Kate. Kate who was going to have to dump the milk down the sink, do the meet with his contact in order to keep her husband safe and healthy, in order to go home to her son.

And Black. He was going to do this, work with her, fill her in, because this was the life he'd chosen and he was going to do what had to be done.

Well, fuck. They were much more alike than she'd thought.

"I feel things? Whatever you need to tell yourself," he said then. But it had been too long of a pause, and Kate knew better. She thought, by the look on Castle's face, that he did too.

"Then tell us about your contact. Tell us everything."

* * *

"Her name is Diane Jolin," Black said, folding his hands together on top of the table. His omelette was only half-eaten. "In the service, we called her the Moon Lady. La Lune. Something of a ghost."

Even though Black was only giving them what amounted to dossier information, nothing more, it sounded to Castle like an over-abundance of personal details. The kind of details his father eschewed, saying that intimacies meant nothing; it was the facts that held true.

He wondered if his father might, perhaps, have gotten in over his head with La Lune.

But Kate must have noticed that as well, because her questions were all leading one way. "And this La Lune, where did you meet?"

Black made a gesture as if to incorporate the whole world; it was an affectation of a culture Castle couldn't quite remember - was it the Sicilians? The thought made sense, his father having been most recently in Italy, though there had been evidence he had set up a camp in Norman-

"Normandy," Castle interrupted. "That's your lovers' nest, isn't it?"

Kate shifted beside him, just crossing one leg over the other, so he didn't look away from his father to check in with her. John Black let out a kind of sigh and put two fingers to his lips, apparently thinking over his next answer.

"Perhaps," he said finally, "we came to an arrangement. She had an ear to the inside circle at the Collective."

"The Collective," Kate said, completely disregarding the interesting information they'd just gotten about some kind of liaison with La Lune. A dangerous game his father was playing. "John, tell me about their leadership. Tell us what you know."

Black looked the professor again, informing them of the facts at hand, confident once more. "A loose collection of governments, mostly Allies - of course, I speak in terms of the Allied forces of World War II, but that shifts, as you know, that way is shaky ground."

"Because of the Cold War," Kate kept going. Castle wasn't sure why she persisted on a track they'd covered already. This was stuff in those Congo files. But her fingers squeezed his knee when he started to open his mouth; she kept up her line of questioning. "The Russians aren't dependable, especially now."

"When have they ever been dependable? If we live in hegemony, then Russia is vying for hegemon status - which is bad news for us, the world's only remaining superpower."

"I think there are quite a few nations who would disagree with that," Castle sad dryly.

"European Union is a collective of their own, and too busy with each other to pose any real threat," his father said icily. He had his opinions and political leanings, like any man, but the difference here was John Black had spent forty years or more creating the world he desired.

Shit. It was so much more than some damn five year old kid waiting for his father to show interest. It was the whole world at stake, and sometimes Castle was chilled to realize that he'd become inured to it, on some level. Conditioned to expect the fate of the free world was held in _his_ balance, at his own whim. Because this man right here, John Black, assumed the world was his to manipulate.

"So Russia is behind the Collective, predominantly," Kate injected.

Well, damn, Castle _hadn't_ figured that. She knew what she was doing.

"You could say," Black began, "that is mostly the case. In the same sense that they are our Allies in the First World."

"And China has nothing to do with this?" Kate pressed.

Black sat back.

Well, fuck. Fuck, they were screwed. China? "What have you done?" Castle hissed.

Black sat forward on a twisted growl, hands planted against the table. "What had to be done to save your fucking life. And mine. The whole project was going down the toilet - no money, no funding, our own government was taking our doctors and medical personnel and _indicting_ them."

Castle couldn't breathe. Holy fuck, the Chinese government had a hand in everything, every pie, and even this.

"When I first met Richard," Kate said slowly. "It was a Chinese spy, collecting information. But Castle was assigned to the Eastern Europe sector - your division - so why the Chinese spy? Why was he on that case?"

Castle sat up straighter. "That's what - holy shit, Black. You were running ops against the Collective back then, weren't you?" How was it that Kate Beckett could figure this shit out but he - the man in the center of all this - couldn't see it at all? "And my tangle with the North Korean ninja, that was some kind of-"

"Yes, well, Richard, who else to send out there than you? I had every confidence in your abilities. You used to follow orders."

And he had. "Back then - I burned a compound to the ground. A lab. On your orders. The North Koreans had Collective engineers, were doing Collective experiments, weren't they?"

"The North Koreans _are_ the Collective's experiments. As are certain ethnic minorities in Russia. It happens. I did what I could to put out the fires."

"And so did Diane," Kate slipped in. "You and Diane felt the same about the Collective's work in less developing nations, their experiments on unsuspecting populaces. Diane came to you, or maybe you two met at a conference, met in the middle of an op, and it was a lightning strike, and how could you not use each other for your own mutual advances?"

"She knew that," Black huffed. "She knew what it was."

"She thought she knew," Kate murmured. "And now what? She's offended? She thinks she's been played. You betrayed her - her confidence or her secrets or perhaps just her love. Because you can't bear to be weak. And now look where it's landed us. All of us."

Black was so uncomfortable that Castle knew - he knew just by looking - that it was more than just some kind of messy affair. Black had _done_ the messy affair with Sophia Turner. This was more, this had implications.

"You've told her things," Kate added. Kate, apparently, could see it as well, that it was more. "You've told Diane Jolin your secrets - some of them, at least - and you don't know why you can't get in touch with her. You don't know why she won't meet up with you-"

"Except she's fucking terrified of me," Black said nastily. "With good reason. She's not stupid. She won't walk into a trap. And she _would_ - most definitely - lay a trap for me if she thought the same was waiting for her."

"So neither of you will meet," Kate finished. "There is no neutral ground. It's to be me, and my meeting her is a show of faith on your part, isn't it? What have you told her about me?"

Holy- "What?" Castle rasped, glancing wildly to Kate and then back to his father. "What? You've told her - why is _my wife_ a sign of good faith?"

Kate's hand no longer pressed against his knee; she wasn't holding him back. She was giving him free rein to unleash his fury - because she'd already figured it out.

She knew what Black was doing, and yet Castle was still sitting here, one or two steps behind, not understanding why his wife showing up at the meeting told Diane Jolin that Black could be trusted-

"Holy shit, you didn't," he croaked.

_His _wife.

"I'm your son's wife," Kate said slowly. "And she knows it."

* * *

Her heart was pounding, but she couldn't let Castle see it. Or - God forbid - John Black either. It wouldn't work out well for her if Black knew this scared the shit out of her.

"Are you absolutely insane?" Castle was growling across the table.

"No. No, that's _not_ it."

"What the _fuck_ have you done?"

She had to get a handle on this, on herself, on her husband. They had to be calm, approach this logically, figure this out. Or if not both of them, at least one of them had to be level-headed.

Black's contact in the Collective knew that Kate had a personal relationship to - to whom?

"Is it Castle they know about or is it me?" she insisted, a hand laid over Castle's forearm on the table. "Is it that you've brought _my_ name up during pillow talk, or is that he's your son?"

Black had a look which didn't seem quite right, calculation but also... embarrassment? Surely not shame. It seemed unthinkable.

"What have you done?" Castle snarled.

Kate took her eyes off Black to quell her husband with a look, her eyes cautioning quiet, quiet, let them figure this out. The emotions between them - the three of them - created a mess, a tangled web, a pitfall that would be extremely difficult to climb out of again.

"No," he told her, glaring first at her and then his father. "I'm not going to keep quiet, because this is more than just playing with fire. You spilled secrets to this woman that are coming back on me and my family. Which you fucking promised it has always been in _your_ interests to protect. So you tell me what you've done-"

"It's not that I came out and told Diane, _my son is the culmination of all of my hard work._"

"Oh? It's _not_?"

Kate squeezed Castle's arm again, fingers wrapping around his wrist in what she realized was a move to keep him from throwing a punch - or maybe grabbing Black and hurtling him to the floor.

"It's not," Black said assuredly. "But the last few years have been - tumultuous - and Diane was there for the... less desirable moments."

"What does that mean?" Kate said, trying to cut through the bullshit formality of his tone. He always held himself aloof with his tone, his words, as if that could elevate him above the morass, keep him untainted by their human feeling, their easily-manipulated weakness of emotion.

Oh, oh, wait. Was _that_ what Black had meant? Less desirable moments were moments of _emotion_?

"You were angry in front of her," Kate answered before he could start. "She saw you in moments of weakness, when you were most human, and mostly a father, and what? She figured it out? Saw the resemblance?"

"She's never seen Richard. She knows nothing of him."

"But you wonder," Kate prodded. There was something back there about these meetings he'd had with Diane Jolin, something about the 'love nest' in Normandy, something about pillow talk. "You've shared enough with her that it makes you wonder."

"I wonder," Black came out with. "It's not - they were calculated reveals, on my part, every time. But Diane is quite intelligent, scarily intelligent, and I've perhaps entrusted too much of my safety on that idea."

Castle snorted. "Of her intelligence? That she's too smart to do something stupid like try and kill you." Castle looked like he thought his father a complete idiot, but Kate winced.

"Rick," she murmured.

"No, I want to know what exactly he was thinking. Giving out information in some kind of 'calculated reveal.' To this woman. In the Collective. Telling her anything is disastrous."

"Rick," she said again, leaning against his side. Reminding him of where exactly they were and _who_ they were. Trying anyway. "I think maybe pot has met kettle."

"What?" Castle said, head snapping back to look at her.

She flushed, embarrassed herself to have to do it, to bring it up. But Black would - Black already was opening his mouth and delivering a scathing rebuke.

"We can't all have your shockingly fortunate luck when it comes to fucking," his father sneered. 'Shockingly fortunate' was said like he thought the entire opposite of what had happened to his son, with a kind of deadly sarcasm that froze Kate to her seat - mentally on her knees in an alley.

And left Castle room to flare up in a kind of white-hot, trembling fury in defense of her, in defense of what he saw flash over her face.

"You leave her alone," he hissed. Trying to control himself, keep his voice down. "You fucking leave her out of this. This is nothing you know of. You're incapable of it-"

"Castle," she rasped, turning her head blindly into her husband's shoulder, swallowing. She hadn't expected it to come over her like that, and now it was partially her fault that Castle was defending her so viciously.

"No," he said harshly, his eyes burning on hers. He turned back to his father, jabbed a finger into the table as if he wanted a knife instead. "No. You don't get to invoke her name to your fucking co-conspirators. You made your bed, don't fucking put my wife in it. You're on damn dangerous ground, and I am this close to killing you."

Kate froze, just a moment, a hard jump of her heart and breathlessness before she could scramble a logical response.

"Castle, just - before we start with death threats, before this completely falls apart, we've got to know what they know. What do they know, John? What's - what damage is it?"

Black had one hand on the table now, near his coffee cup as if he meant to reach for it and had forgotten. Two fingers trembled. She thought he wasn't unaffected by Castle, after all, and that something else had been released in his outburst.

_We can't all have your luck_.

Did he somehow _mean_ it?

"Damage," Black said slowly, taking a breath that stilled his fingers. "This is all about damage control, Katherine. A meeting with Diane to find out exactly that, with yourself as a show of good faith that our two goals are not mutually exclusive."

_We can't all have your luck._

Because it was luck that had given Rick Castle a woman whom he could partner with, a woman whose goals were not mutually exclusive - and more than that - whose whole being was devoted to the cause that Black had begun.

Not that Kate actually was aligned with Black, not really. But she and Castle had spent a lot of effort making Black believe in the show, the theatre of their adherence to the program and what it meant for the nation, for the Service.

Agent Castle had met Detective Beckett and it had changed him. It had churned things up, broken things down, just as it had for her too, of course. But Black, observing his son's behavior, had seen only the negative, the ways she was destroying his legacy. And he'd taken action to stop that - attempted to kill her.

Only she had turned out to be one of Black's allies in that campaign to preserve the legacy. Not because she was aligned with Black, no, but because Castle needed that serum to fucking _live_, and Kate wasn't willing to mess around with it.

And Kate was crazy enough about Castle to do some extreme things, like approach a man who wanted her most assuredly dead in order to obtain that serum for her husband. Black saw her as insane, definitely, but only emotionally. In her actions and her dedication and her loyalty (all because of love, of course), she could be counted on. Without fail.

But not Diane.

_That_ was what he meant when he'd said that he hadn't been lucky in love.

Holy shit.

Black had been churned up and broken down and emotionally compromised just as his son had been, and look what had happened. He had actually - holy _fuck_ - he had actually attempted...

love?

And it was completely blowing up in his face. Had blown up. And he wanted Kate to fix it.

She felt like she was in sixth grade again, passing notes between her best friend and the guy behind her, stuck in the middle and definitely the one who would get in trouble for it - passing notes in class.

"We can't trust you. We can't trust a word you say-"

"Hold on, wait. Wait. Castle, love, wait a second."

He was brittle with his anger beside her, and she knew he had more to say, that he was absolutely seething with it, but it was because of his helplessness and his frustration and his _love_, and she loved him all the more for it. For how much he loved her.

And he stopped swearing at his father long enough to listen to her.

"We can fix this," she told him. "We can persuade her of _him_. We can leave the program entirely off the table - Diane wants _him_."

Black made a noise of protest. "You have always said you needed me alive-"

"I don't meant she wants to kill you," Kate said, trying not to laugh. It would be hysterical laughter, if she did. "It's not life or death like that."

"Kate," Castle whispered. "You're not making much sense."

"Diane is in love with him, and she's been betrayed by some - oh, probably very logical but cold-hearted thing he's done. And now we've got to smooth it over, play go-between. Don't you see? He tried to have what you have, Rick, and it didn't work."

"Tried to-" Black cut off with a dismissive wave of his hand and a turn of his head, not looking at them. "You have lost it."

She smirked at her husband, and he seemed to at least _get_ it, if he didn't actually also believe it. But that was fine. It was still a dangerous position Black had put her in, and his own son by extension, association, but Kate thought she could do this.

This she could definitely do.

She knew what it was to love a spy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

"Give us a second," Castle insisted.

Kate nudged into him, but he was firm on this. His father didn't look happy, glancing over his shoulder towards the open cafe, the sounds of forks on china, the conversations, the movement. It wasn't ideal.

"Beckett and I need to talk," Castle told him, point-blank. "About you. And this shit you're landing in our laps. So - give us a minute."

Black's face flooded with a cold displeasure that Castle had seen a thousand times as a boy, but it had been years since that look did anything at all to his insides.

Kate flicked a hand towards the back of the restaurant in a move that actually made his father flinch. "Bathroom, through the narrow hall." Dismissal, pure and simple.

Black laid his napkin on top of the table and stood - with slight difficulty, though that could be an act - before turning around and presenting his back to them as he walked away.

"Gutsy," Kate murmured.

Castle's breath left him in a rush, mostly choked amusement, and he turned to take a look at his wife.

She wasn't smiling, but that wry twist of the corner of her mouth told him she was trying. She was holding it together, but it was costing her.

"I'm sorry," he found himself saying. He shook his head even as he said, closed his eyes for half a second to keep form looking at her face in response to that. "No. Forget it. Been said-"

"And it's done," she murmured. "Past is past."

Didn't make him feel better, but her hand on his thigh and her fingers scratching at the material of his jeans helped just a little. Made it possible to open his eyes and catch her hand, lace their fingers together.

"He's not telling us everything," Castle warned.

"I'm aware."

"This woman - La Lune - Diane Jolin? I have never in my life heard of her."

"You hadn't heard of the Collective until the Congo - and even then, we didn't have a name for what we were up against."

He sighed, propped his elbow on the table to rub two fingers at his forehead. "I don't trust it, Kate. I don't trust him, and I don't trust Diane Jolin, and I sure as hell don't trust the Collective."

"But," Kate started, "we have a narrow range of solid ground under our feet. We can step out onto _that_, at least."

"Stop talking in riddles," he muttered.

She actually laughed, and he felt her fingers unwind from his and the cool touch against his cheek. He glanced up and saw her regard - _regard_ - there was no other word for the affection that spilled in her eyes.

She favored him. He was having trouble coming up with English words for that look, there was no good language for it. She moved in his orbit, and he in hers, dual planetary bodies, gravity wells constantly pulling towards the other.

"Didn't mean to confuse you, sweetheart," she murmured.

"What's our solid ground?" he said back. They wouldn't be given long; Black wouldn't want to be out of the loop. "Where do we stand, Kate?"

"Your father wants to protect the program," she said, ticking it off on her finger. "You are the program. But so is James, which puts me somewhat nebulously within that range. I'm not non-essential personnel, and he knows that, so it does mean something, my being here."

Sometimes it curled his guts to hear her talk about herself like that, to hear her talk about them like that. Logical, calculating. But she was just running through motives, avenues, theories. She was - always would be - a cop. She was a detective going down her list of the usual suspects.

He could do that. "Okay. Let me lay it out. He wanted you here because he likes to screw around with us, and, in his heart of hearts, he'd just rather see you dead - but, yes, I admit, not by his own hand. Because that fucks up his life permanently, and he knows that."

"Yes."

Direct answers; he liked that. Much better. "So he doesn't entirely believe you're in danger, but he does believe that _he_ is in danger."

"I've got an acceptable risk," Kate added. "A risk made minimal, especially now, with you here - which he wanted. You saw his face - he wanted you here all along-"

"Yes," he gave back. He'd seen that.

"With you here, I am probably the most well-protected agent in the field. With you here, the danger to me is miniscule."

He felt himself blushing, and he was slightly appalled that she'd made him so pleased and proud, knowing that she felt that way about him. "Thank you," he finally settled on.

Kate laughed. It was a little breathless in the restaurant, and he felt her leaning in close to him, and when he finally looked, she was amused. Very amused. She was holding it back.

"I hate you," he muttered, and she laughed again, not holding it back now. Her hands came up and framed his cheeks and she kissed him softly, the curve of her smile against his lips and tasting like sweetened coffee.

"You love me. Which is why I'm confident nothing will happen to me," she said. "And it's not misplaced, and yes, it's a risk, but Black thinks something _bad_ is going on inside the Collective, something to do with the program, and that's bad for us. That's - Castle - that's bad for our son."

He sucked in a breath and caught her hands, drawing her down from his face so he could get himself together, figure this out without the tangled up, throat-choking knot of his own damn emotions.

"He's not telling us everything," he said finally, his only warning left.

"I know that."

"And he's not in love with her - Diane? You're wrong about that, Kate, because he doesn't know _how_."

"Okay," she whispered.

"So don't go assigning some kind of romantic-"

"Hardly-"

"Don't give him motives he isn't capable of feeling," he stressed. His heart was pounding, all of the sudden, and he realized belatedly that hers was as well, that he could feel the scattered race of her pulse under his fingers where he still held her by the wrists.

Her hands were clammy too. She said she wasn't afraid, but she must be. How could she not be? Black wanted her dead, most assuredly, and yet here she was, the most courageous woman he had ever known.

"He's not capable," he started again, "of feeling that vulnerable to anyone. He's not. I know you think I'm just a hurt little boy when I say that, but take it from that five year old who had to grow up under him, Kate - he can't. He doesn't have it - whatever it is - and I do, thank God, I do have it, because I have you."

She wasn't laughing any more; her eyes were serious on his. Stone cold sober.

He was too. This was serious. "Think about it, love. How did your name come up?" he husked.

Kate flinched.

"It's important, don't you think? If he talked to Diane and gave her a particular story - if he was putting on the illusion of a relationship to appease her, just as he did to Sophia Turner, to the others - then he talked to her carefully, calculating every revelation."

"He makes mistakes," Kate offered. "He says things in anger. He-" Her face blanched. "Shit. That's what you mean. He brought _my_ name up in anger - which is a bad first impression."

He swallowed. "Yeah. Or worse - he did it purposefully one day, knowing he would be setting this up."

"And now this woman Diane will meet with me for her own agenda and what she knows about me is... that Black wants me dead? Black hates me?"

"Or you're part of this," he rasped. "Fuck. He could have told her any kind of lie at all. He could have told her that _you're_ the experiment, Kate."

She tilted her head. "Not reasonably. He doesn't want the Collective to even know the program succeeded with humans. So no. Not that."

He was only mildly mollified. He felt his guts churning up again and Kate's fingers were still clammy under his, like she was equally terrified but trying to suppress it.

They had a lot more to lose this time. And her father at home with the baby, more people they ruined if this went wrong.

"I don't know that we can figure this out," she said. "Rick, I don't think we have the luxury of figuring it out, every angle. Something has happened, and Black is scared. You saw that, didn't you?"

He let go of her hand to scrape the side of his jaw where the stubble was coming in, too long without a shave. Too long without home. "Yes," he admitted. "He was scared. And not just of me. Or the hold you have over me."

She sighed, a little roll of her eyes to his wording, but he liked seeing the ease she had in her shoulders now. She glanced quickly away and he saw - as she did - that his father was taking his time getting back to their table.

Fuck. They hadn't reached any decision at all.

"I say we pry as much information out of him as we can," Castle said hurriedly. "We withhold our support until he thoroughly answers two questions-"

"Okay, okay. Two questions," she breathed, eyes on Black's journey towards them. "And they are?"

"One, what does Diane do in the Collective - her job, her function, her role, her _agenda_."

Kate nodded, briefly; Black was at the dessert counter where a waitress had stopped him to ask if he needed anything, or perhaps if he wanted a slice of pie.

"Second, what does Diane know about you."

"And you," Kate insisted, a turn of her head to him, eyes dark and urgent.

"No," he said. "Not important. Already established - Black's not going to give that out, not when it could put me at risk. But _you_? The pills you were taking? The _baby?"_

Her eyes lost their fight, and in that second, his father reached the table.

Castle lifted his foot and kicked out the chair. "Sit. You need to talk. Or this doesn't happen."

* * *

Black actually _talked_.

They asked and he answered. It was so forthright that it made Beckett wonder, but maybe the trip to the bathroom had been a mental talking-to.

She wasn't sure, but Black wasn't holding back. He was winding down their conversation with some honest-sounding information.

"Her agenda is hazy," he was telling them. "I can't say for sure. I intended to find out, of course, but I've heard things from other quarters which make me think that she hasn't been telling me everything."

"Why should she?" Kate said, frowning at him. She couldn't imagine that he didn't understand that. "If she's smart at all - and you'd never pick someone who wasn't - she'd keep her mouth shut as much as possible."

Black gave her a look of his eyes that seemed to actually be acknowledgement. A score.

"So, no, she hasn't given out secrets. Here's what I do know - corroborated by other sources. Diane Jolin, doctor of medicine in-"

"Wait," Castle said sharply. "She's a medical doctor. And that's the reason - that's why."

Black didn't seem to listen to his son; he was watching Beckett, and while that was a little uncomfortable - power dynamics-wise - Kate could handle it. She took the lead of the conversation again, wanting to get on with it.

"She's a doctor for the Collective'e program, you mean - their attempts."

"Correct," Black said. "Her speciality was in genetics - research mostly. For at least twenty years before the Collective recruited her. Late recruitment, honestly, which is why I approached her. She hadn't been brainwashed; it was purely for the chance at unlimited funds."

"Approached her?" Kate asked. "It was your idea?"

"Well, she was there, I was there, we started talking. The idea formed."

"You fucked her and then afterward saw her benefit to the cause," Castle interrupted.

Black merely raised an eyebrow, sipped at his coffee.

"She had a speciality in genetics and research and she was furthering their aims. What makes you think it's a good idea to have a meeting?" Castle said. "How can you possibly think it's smart _at all_ for any of us to go near her? Kate's just a much a part of this as I am."

Beckett had to press her knees together under the table to keep from reacting - from shivering. She was cold again, an icy sweat under her armpits, a funny taste in her mouth. The coffee wasn't helping; she should have avoided the stimulant. She should stop letting words and Black's nearness get the better of her.

"Katherine's the only one we have available," Black said. "I can't go - I'm uncertain of my reception after some personal matters. You, Richard-"

"I'll go," he said.

"_No._"

She and Black both jumped on that, but it was to her that Castle turned his attention. He looked ready to put up a fight, but she would as well, and harder, and for as long as it took.

"No, Castle. Extremely risky." It was her code word, their code word, for when he'd pushed her too far, when she'd pushed him. She'd told him that it was an acceptable risk, that yes, she knew she was pushing him, but it wasn't more than either of them could bear.

In front of his father, they had a united front. Castle going out there was _not_ an acceptable risk.

"Fine," he said, but it meant, _later_. He turned blazing eyes to Black. "So not you, but my wife?"

"A sign of good faith-"

"You've said that," Kate went on. "But her agenda is hazy and she's a geneticist trying to piece together _your_ program from whatever scraps you gave her over pillow talk. You can bet she was playing you as much as you played her. So what have you given her you shouldn't have?"

"Nothing," he said firmly. And then a very slight hesitation that made Castle bristle, but which made Black confess, "That I know of."

"You ever said anything in the heat of the moment, or in the post-coital haze-"

"Oh, fuck, Kate," Castle hissed, wiping a hand down his face.

She didn't take it as rebuke; she actually had to keep from laughing. "John?"

"Nothing," he insisted. "I've said nothing more than what might gain me-"

"What have you said?" Castle insisted. "Just answer the fucking question."

Black's nostrils flared - one actually, because half his face was nerve-damaged and wouldn't obey his finer twitches. He laid a hand on the table as if to smooth down his own reaction.

"John?" she said quietly.

He sent her a look and the coldness in his gaze wasn't lost on her. It was the reason she used his first name, forced intimacy. Trick of the interrogation room. She ignored Black's disdain of her, staring back at him, and Castle was waiting, though not patiently, and finally Black seemed to find an answer.

"I told her nothing directly. She knows of Katherine only as an agent of the service. This-" Here Black gestured to his own ruined face. "This had to be accounted for."

This. The damage that had been done.

Sweat was drenching her shirt underneath her leather jacket. She felt like she was going to be sick. Beside her, Castle had gone deadly, dangerously still.

"Diane Jolin - Dr. Jolin of the Collective - knows that my wife is a CIA agent?"

"An agent. Of a service. I did not specify she's your-"

"You fucking _did_ just by saying that, you bastard."

Kate couldn't even reach the short distance to catch Castle's hand, her own body paralyzed with a kind of retrograde horror, not sure if it was flashbacks of that day in the alley or if it was the idea that Black's supposed lover thought that Kate had done the damage.

"You cold-blooded _bastard_."

It jerked Kate forward, catching his arm this time before he could reach across the table, and Castle, because he was just that damn good, roughly got control of himself again. He swallowed back his next words, and he clenched his fist under her hand and he breathed hard, but he was keeping it together.

"I have given Katherine perhaps too much credit for her abilities."

"You said I beat you?" Beckett finally got out. "You told her that was my doing. Your face. Your ruined face."

Black actually flinched, probably at the truth inherent in the wording, but he shifted in his chair and tapped his finger against the coffee cup. She'd seen him do that once before, extremely discomfited, but she didn't quite know what it meant for his thoughts.

"Then how is my presence a sign of good faith?"

"Either you are an ally to her - because she does in fact want me dead. Or she wants to truly pass along some damning information and your meeting her shows that I believe in cooperating for the common good - even with a woman who did this to me."

"What convinced this doctor to join forces with you in the first place? Common good?" Castle said. He was still rigid with anger, but he bit out his words and managed to make a point.

"She had some early failures with human trials," Black said. "She convinced - with my help - the Collective to abandon future endeavors. She diverted their entire project away from human trials with data from my own cost-risk analysis."

"Holy fuck," Castle whispered. Beckett glanced quickly at him and saw the shock had transmitted right across his face. He truly hadn't seen that coming, even though she had tried to prepare for it, tried to tell him that a parallel program wouldn't consider ethics any more than Black had.

Kate pressed her shoulder to Castle and faced Black. "She had human experiments, they failed, so you slipped some all-too-true science to her that would show how dangerous and risky it was. Human subjects."

"Precisely that," Black said, looking pleased with her. She was a quick study. That was it? She could play that game.

"So the science was true and the projections of course were true," Castle growled. "Because you had similar failures. And that worked? They actually said, okay, you're right, it will never work with human beings, moving on?"

"They had no evidence to the contrary. Unlike myself. I _knew_ it worked in humans. They had nothing."

"Because no one had ever taken a boy, a five year old _boy,_" Kate started hotly, suddenly burning with anger, "whose own father had shot himself up with the serum and then turned and did the same to his son-"

But Castle stopped her, a palm pressing hard into the top of her thigh, and all the anger went out of her, just like that, leaving her shaky and sick to her stomach again.

This thing with Black just totally screwed with her. She was close to an emotional wreck, closer than she'd thought. She had expected to need to keep Castle in check, she had been counting on it, on being the stabilizing force he needed. Suddenly she wasn't sure she could do it, now that they were here.

But she had to.

God, she had to.

"No human experiments," Black said. "I'm certain of it. From not only Diane, but a few others as well. I have my sources."

Well, that was one thing.

"And my wife is what - the assurance to Jolin that you're going to be magnanimous about this - willing to ally with your enemies?"

Black nodded into his coffee mug but there was no way that Castle believed it, Kate knew. She didn't believe it, not entirely.

"Something like that," his father said finally.

It wasn't much of a reassurance. Her heart was beginning to miss beats, just at the look on the man's face. Her palms were clammy; she had a _son_ at home, she had a baby and she absolutely had to pull this off. Their son needed not only his parents, but fuck, fuck, he needed the damn regimen. He needed the locked-tight answers that Black had in that damn brain.

"But what choice do you have?" Black said, looking straight at her. "What choice, Katherine? I have stayed away. You have my son, my grandson, and I have answers. More to the point - Diane Jolin has answers. She has advanced the study of the program far beyond my own poorly-funded limitations."

Kate's head was pounding, a sharp ache behind her eyes that traveled down to her very heart. That place at her back where she'd been shot - so damn long ago now - it was an ache as well, like a knife. Her heart was twisting in her chest.

She wanted to go home, but she couldn't.

"You would be wise to make friends of Diane," Black warned them. His voice was low, but not soft, never soft. He pitched it under the murmur of conversation around them but with the scrape and grate of deadly assurance. "She knows things about the regimen, about what it can do, about its fundamental properties. I have had to collaborate with the Collective for forty years. Forty years, Richard."

With Black's eyes finally away from Kate, she took in a ragged breath, appalled at how easily he had unravelled her. She felt abjectly miserable in her emotional defeat, but she was trying to rally, trying to pay attention.

"Forty years of work. They have everything I had, Richard, except for you. There were no records kept on you, no pieces of paper except for those very early experimental studies-"

"When I was five."

"When you were five," Black gave over. "And I was trying to get you healthy again. That's all. You have those records - the only copies were in my research facility in the Congo, a site I had kept hidden from the Collective until you two came in after me, that damn tracking device."

"No one knows," Beckett said roughly. "No one knows about him. About Rick. Not even her. You _promise._"

"Not even her." Black placed both hands flat to the table, leaned in. "No one knows about Richard. But Diane knows about everything else - all the science - she has it all. The failed attempts in the seventies, the explosion in the eighties, the virulent strains in the nineties. And finally, the Army progress... and its ultimate demise. The - mental illness that broke that squad."

The Army - that band of soldiers who had volunteered to be a part of Black's special group. Super soldiers who had gone AWOL, super soldiers who had come back to the States as deadly killers.

Coonan.

But Black was trying to distract her; she couldn't be distracted.

"Castle's name - he's not recorded in that Army experiment either, right?" she insisted. "No record of Rick Castle or Richard - whatever he was called then-"

"J.R.," Castle said roughly. "J.R. Black."

She hadn't even known. It had never come up. She turned her head and saw the bleak despair in his eyes because he realized it too, and it hurt him, that she didn't know. Kate put her hand to his chest and shook her head; it wasn't important. J.R. Black was gone.

"No records," Black said into that silence. "No records of him at all."

Kate let out a breath and sank back against the seat. "Okay. Okay, then."

"Kate," her husband whispered.

"He's right about this," she explained. "We have no choice."

She had Castle, and she had their son, and Black had the trump card - he knew everything about the regimen that could save them.

* * *

Castle fought it. He did. He wanted to be the one meeting this woman, and he didn't want it to be Kate, not at all - his son's _mother_ - but at the end of his protests and his anger and his threats, she turned to him and snagged his hand, pressed it against her chest.

Her heart was pounding. She was trying so hard to remain calm; he could see it in her eyes. It made him want to hide her away, but she shook her head at him, as if dismissing her own feelings.

"Rick," she said intently. He knew his father was watching this, that the man hated how Kate held such sway, but he couldn't care. "Rick, I have to be the one."

"It doesn't matter what he says, we-"

"Rick, it has to be me because you're the better shot."

Castle sucked in a breath, speechless at that.

She squeezed his hand and released him, her eyes holding his for a moment longer. "It's a park we've been to before. There's rooftop access across the street; you keep the bench sighted in your scope."

"God, Kate." His stomach had dropped out.

"I need you to have my back-"

"Of course," he growled. Fuck. "I have your back. No one else better have it."

She smiled for his effort, knew he was trying even though his guts were churning and his palms were damp with the thought of this meeting.

He turned his head to his father. "I'll procure a sniper rifle after we're done here. On my own. We have the time and the place; we don't need you there."

"You do need me there." Black lifted an eyebrow, but he turned to Kate. "We'll wire you, Katherine, put an IFB in your ear so that I can counsel you on what to say. Just in case there's anything that comes up."

"Surprises, you mean," Castle said dryly. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Castle," she murmured. She looked back to Black, leaning into the table. "You'll monitor the meet, that's fine. But Castle gets the earpiece too - and he's the one talking in my ear."

"That doesn't-"

"I want to be able to reassure my sniper that things are fine, if they are actually fine. Or if they're not and he needs to take measures."

Shoot the woman, she meant. Castle could do that; he would do that.

Beckett turned and met his glare, her face impassive. Her fingers were cold over his hand. "Not extreme measures, babe. Kneecaps, remember?"

He frowned. "Doesn't put her out of commission if she's looking to hurt you."

"Trust me to be faster than that," she answered.

"I trust - shit, of course I trust you, Kate. It's _her_ I don't trust. It's _him_."

"I know. But not a headshot, please. Not that. In Luxembourg Garden?"

Where kids would be playing, she meant, thousands of tourists and artists and visitors. And, he knew, because she wanted Diane Jolin alive if they needed a medical doctor who knew something about the regimen. A contact that didn't include the trouble and pitfalls of his own father.

Castle could see all that in her eyes; she was telegraphing the important points quite clearly. They'd developed a shorthand, an unspoken communication over the years, and she was subtly telling him that Jolin could be a marked improvement over Black.

Okay.

Okay, he could do that.

Black interrupted. "I'll monitor the exchange, but what if she asks a personal question that you don't know how to answer?"

"I won't answer," Kate said coldly, glancing back to his father. "I won't say _anything_ about Castle, about the regimen."

"Assurances have to be made, Katherine."

"No, they fucking don't," Castle grumbled. "Back off. It's not up to you. Kate is the best agent we have when it comes to developing an asset - best in the field, best thinking on her feet, best at getting what we need. You should know; she does it often enough to you."

Black sat back, a kind of shock filtering through the ruined half of his face. Castle was glad for scoring that hit, at least, because there was no way in hell he was going to allow Black to be the voice in Beckett's ear on something like this.

"Rent a van," he told Black. "Panel van, dark blue or green - Paris has quite a few service vehicles in those colors. We'll meet you at three o'clock, since Jolin is supposed to be there at dusk - that'd be about 6:40 tonight. We'll gear up, you'll drive around the block and monitor from a secure distance, I'll be her back-up."

Black looked like he had swallowed something distasteful. Castle didn't really fucking care. This was how it was going to be.

"I'll have the earpiece," Kate said. "Castle will advise me if there's trouble, since he's got eyes up top. If you want communication with him, then you can do it by text. You've got a phone."

Black's jaw worked, but it was a strange result, one side of his face not quite managing the displeasure. The cheek drooped when he made an effort of expression like that, and Castle couldn't help remember that he'd done that.

He'd lost it, that day; he didn't specifically remember beating his fists into Black's face, smashing his head into the pavement of that alley. He remembered Kate, mostly, and the near-assassination that had led up to his rage. But mostly it was the crunch of bone shifting under his hands as Kate had pulled him away.

Castle nudged on Kate's hip, nodded towards the aisle. It was their turn to walk away from Black, to put their backs to him and get the fuck out of here. She stood, her fingers trailing across the table top, nearly to Black himself.

"Three o'clock," she said. "The Medici Fountain."

"I shall be there," Black said.

Castle pushed his wife out past the narrow table, dropping a 20 euro bill on the table and leaving his father to cover the rest of it. He put his hand at Kate's back, where her weapon was still holstered, and guided her out of the cafe.

Out on the street, they had one last view of Black sitting as still as a statue at the table, and then they'd moved quickly down the sidewalk.

Kate let out a harsh breath, and he realized she was shaking. She wasn't unaffected by his father; of course not. He sometimes lost sight of just how very much it scared her, how deeply the fear went, when she was so good at putting up an impenetrable facade.

He dropped his hand from her back and took her fingers, brought them up to his lips for a gentle kiss. His tenderness brought breath back to her, and she laced her fingers through his, clinging.

"Kate," he murmured. He didn't know what he was asking. Was she going to be okay? Could she really handle working in close contact with Black?

"I got it. I'm - no, not true - I'm not okay. God, Castle. I'm not okay. But I can do it."

"Sweetheart-"

"No," she said tightly, shaking her head. They still walked, and she wouldn't look at him, but he knew that was part of her internal strength, or at least for keeping it.

"You can do it," he echoed.

She nodded. "I can. And when it's done - when it's over - then I'll probably want to spend a night in the panic room with you."

He laughed. He did. She was amazing; she really was. Her fingers were still clammy in his but she was going to hold it together.

"Talk to me about Diane," she said quickly. "Tell me what you think about this. What Black wasn't saying back there."

He took a deep breath and frowned, marshaling his thoughts, his impressions. She had her own, of course, but she wanted to hear if he'd gleaned anything she hadn't.

What came to his mind foremost was the idea that there was definitely more to the regimen than his father had ever given out - and Jolin might have those answers. Beckett was probably thinking about that too, about what she could get out of the woman, but he had something else he needed her to remember, to _know_, in case she hadn't figured it out.

"Beckett, you heard what he said in there. That you're practically a peace offering."

"I - yes. I caught that."

He squeezed her hand and tucked it against his side, trying to warm her fingers. "You do realize that Diane thinks you're a little super?"

"What?" she rasped, her head snapping towards him. "Me?"

"Super now, or at least that you were - you'd been on trials of the drug when you went crazy and beat up your handler, Black. Just like all the other experiments."

"My handler," she said weakly.

"That's what he's told her. Why she thinks you were the one who ruined his face but you're also the one he's got meeting her. An asset of his own."

"Oh, damn. A sign of good faith because _I'm_ on the regimen. Or was."

He wasn't feeling quite so great about this, and she looked sick. He wanted her out of here, and they had scant little time to get this set up to his satisfaction. "And you are, Kate. Basically. You are. Because of James."

"I am," she said, looking a little horrified. She shot him an unsteady look. "But she doesn't have to know that. She _won't_ know that. Ever. Not about him, not about you, not about me."

Castle gripped her hand tighter, like that could seal their deal, like holding on to her would keep her here with him no matter what Diane Jolin would do.

"Do you think it's an ambush?" she whispered.

"I just don't know."


	10. Chapter 10

**Close Encounters 21**

* * *

The sun had disappeared behind the clouds; the earth was grey. Rain had started again, persistent but misty, wetting her cheeks and the back of her jeans despite the temporary shelter she and Castle had under the awning.

Her hands wouldn't quit shaking. Her throat was dry, her headache was so fierce that her eyes actually hurt.

But it was too late to go back, too late to sit down and catch her breath and _think._

Castle cupped the back of her head and brushed his other hand down her back, adjusting her holster as if it needed it. His lips touched her cheek.

"You're cold," he murmured.

"I'm - a little nervous," she replied.

"I've got your back, Kate."

She nodded, but _God_, this wasn't right. This didn't feel right, and she didn't know if it was a gut instinct telling her to run or something else.

She didn't feel right. Her palms were damp even though her fingers were cold.

"I just want to get this over with," she told him.

"Keep out of sight," he said softly. "Let her arrive first. Approach her on the bench."

"I know," she said. "I got it."

They were hunkered in a doorway across the street from the Luxembourg Garden entrance. Masses of people were around them, in and out of the public walkways, the paths and fountains. They had met Black at the Medici, gone over the security surveillance, and then Black had been on his way, back into the van.

Castle's phone vibrated just then and he let go of Kate to look down, check the message. She let herself lean in against his body, just two people in love, taking a moment out of the fast pace of foot traffic.

"He's in place," Castle said. "About four blocks over."

She nodded. "That's good. He'll monitor the wire; it'll be recorded. We can parse every word later. For..."

"I know," he said. She knew he wasn't happy about her meeting Diane Jolin, this Collective doctor, but she could see so much potential, so many alternate avenues if she did this right.

"Castle, if I pull this off, it's - we can go around him," she said. The rain began to thrum harder on the awning, and she used its noise as an excuse to step into him, closer, closer. The heat of his body dispersed the chill. "We won't be dependent on his trickles of information. We could even - it's possible, Rick - we might get out from under him completely."

"Don't put a lot of hope in that, Kate." His fingers stroked her hair back from her face; she could feel the wet strands at her neck; she'd left it loose for the minimal warmth it provided. His thumb paused at her pulse point. "She might have the knowledge, but I don't want to enter into a deal with a _new_ devil."

"The enemy we know," she murmured. He could be right. At least they knew where they were with Black. That was something. "But for your sake-"

"No, love. For yours, if anything. I don't care. I'd rather have him dead."

She shivered, gripped the edges of his jacket to keep from being thrown off balance by the sudden gust of wind at her back. His arm came around her, holding her loosely, and she wished it wasn't raining, wished the day wasn't so miserable, wished they didn't have to do this.

"Take my gun," she said then. "I don't think it's a good idea to have it in the park."

"But you'll be unarmed."

"I have you for that," she said, touching her lips to his neck. He shivered and drew her closer, but his hand slid under her jacket, his thumb working at the snaps to release the holster. She let out a breath as he took it from her.

"I got your back," he said roughly. "Kate, I won't let anything happen to you. I will shoot her if there's one move out of line."

Kate swallowed through the dryness in her throat, the scratch of her own breathing. "No, no, don't - be wise. I don't want to burn any bridges. She might be Black's contact, but she could be _ours_. Instead."

"Not at your expense," he growled.

"No, I know. Just - keep calm. Be brave." She knew it wasn't fair to ask that of him, not when her own bravery kept crumbling like a sandcastle at the first wave. But if Castle was, if he could be, then she knew she could too.

"I got you. I won't let anything happen," he said fiercely. "You _know_ what you are to me."

She smiled then, lifted her head to catch his gaze. "I know. Never had any doubt."

Castle tilted down to meet her mouth, his lips soft, caressing. It warmed her down to her toes, spread heat through her chest until just the solid presence of his body before her was enough to restore that failing courage.

"Let's go," she told him. "I want to get this over with."

She took his hand and tugged him out from under the awning, into the drizzling rain. They walked for one block together, hand in hand, before she had to let him go at the entrance to the Luxembourg Palace. He was going up there to sight her down the scope; the distance would have been insurmountable if she'd been the one with the rifle. This was really the only way do it - even if she _did_ feel like chickening out and having him take her place.

"I love you," she said suddenly, half-turning back to him.

Castle grabbed her by the wrist and drew her into him. He kissed her, rough and intense, not pleased with this set up and she knew it.

He broke from her mouth with a growl. "I'll see you up there," he said. "I have your back."

She watched him walk towards the Luxembourg Palace, headed for the line of visitors so that he could later slip away unnoticed, out to the roof access.

Time to do this.

* * *

Castle stayed with the tour until the line filed past the stairwell; he hung out in the grand, gorgeous hall, glancing side to side, overhead even, like an awed tourist. When the security guard turned his back, Castle pressed quickly through the door and inside the stairwell, catching the door before it could clang shut.

There was a camera in the corner landing just past the ground floor, but he had chewing gum already in his mouth, popped another piece out of the foil as he climbed - straight up - using the railing rather than the steps themselves. In this position, the camera had a blind spot that allowed him to sidle up and duck underneath the wide angle to push the gum onto the lens.

He'd have to go _fast_, now that the gum was in place. No other choice. He had another piece of gum in his mouth, just in case he got a camera at the roof, but there weren't supposed to be any. A CIA contact on the security team - his off day - had funneled that information to him through Mitchell.

He hadn't wanted to bring anyone else in on this, in case it went badly. Hopefully it was just a guy hanging out on a rooftop, a broken down sniper rifle in the tourist's bag over his shoulder.

Castle took the stairs three at a time, going fast, still feeling his clothes damp with the rain. The metal of the railing was cool under his touch as he vaulted himself up, and he didn't waste much time clearing the landings.

No more cameras so far.

The palace stairwell was narrow and cramped, much more so than one would expect of a former royal apartment, but it was working to his favor. The windows were thin plates of bevelled, warped glass, making it impossible to see much outside other than the bleak wash of rain, but it also meant he wouldn't be spotted by a tourist in the garden either.

Castle counted the landings as he went up, paused just below what should be the roof access door. He gripped the railing, put a foot over into the dizzying spiral down, and then slowly climbed the stairwell on the outside.

He reached upward with one hand, got a grip on one of the bars, pushed off with a toe to snag another bar with his free hand. He had to do a straight vertical pull-up to haul himself towards the final landing, his feet swinging free over the stairs.

His heart was pounding when he finally got an arm up over the railing, a toehold on the upper stairs. The drop was vast inside the palace stairwell, a long way down, but he didn't look. Couldn't.

It had never gotten to him like this before. He'd never felt the strain of his muscle, never had this sense that he could lose his grip and fall at any moment. He'd never felt that second of doubt where he might not make it, and he knew it was due to the ways they'd altered his serum.

Fuck, that was a good reason not to mess around with it. He _still_ felt the shake in his biceps as he climbed over the railing and under the camera.

He had to jump to push the chewing gum against the lens, the camera mounted up the near the ceiling and the ceiling higher here. Doing so, he accidentally pushed the angle up and away, but there was no time to fix it - or to worry.

His father in the van down the block would work on getting security feeds replaced, but he might not have that access yet. Didn't matter. He was a guy on the roof for the next - fifteen minutes or so - no more.

He'd made Kate promise to get in and get out, make a deal for communication between secure email. This in person shit - face to face - no. Wouldn't work in the long run.

Castle took a breath and regarded the roof door, ran his fingers along the alarm wire, evaluating what he was up against. It was a simple point-to-point, and all he had to do was use the magnet he'd bought from the same supplier as the rifle, press it between the contact points until the door clicked open.

Open. And the alarm was still engaged.

He touched his earpiece. "I'm up," he murmured. "Make your final approach."

"I hear you," came her voice.

It was raining, the wind blowing the drizzle across the rooftop and already inhibiting his line of sight. He slung the bag off his shoulder and unzipped it even as he headed around the black slate for the turret at the far end, closest to the benches before the fountain pool. He found a ledge at the rim of the widow's peak, hunkered down to assemble the rifle.

The scope was the highest power his supplier had available, and he still wasn't happy about it. Long-range like this, he wished for something better, but it would have to work. He set about getting the scope secured to the stock, and then he opened up the tripod to settle the rifle on the ledge.

He laid down on his stomach for stability, put his eye to the scope.

Immediately the park jumped into crystal clear view, the brilliant green of the lawn and trees so rich in the misting rain. Drops had collected on the back of his neck, irritating, but he ignored them, scanning the park benches until he had line of sight established.

A woman was already sitting on their bench, an ivory coat wrapped around her thin frame. Her hair was dark, exotic-looking, and in the scope's vision, her lips were pinched, eyes hungry. This was a woman who would miss absolutely nothing.

Castle settled in to wait on the rooftop, keeping an eye on the approach.

There was Kate now, walking slowly for the bench, her hair glistening with rain. He'd asked her to leave it down, give him a wind marker, and he saw that strands had snaked in front of her face. She had to lift a hand to push it back behind her ear, but it told him what he needed to know about drift.

He adjusted his aim, kept the sights firmly on the woman's lower torso. Not a gut shot, no, but thigh or knee, the way she was sitting on the bench. Might be really bad, might get the femoral artery at this trajectory, but he'd try to put it in at the top of the knee and out the back.

If it came to that.

God, Kate was sitting down.

_Here goes nothing._

* * *

Diane Jolin was a woman made of marble, the ivory coat and the raven's wing of hair; she held Beckett's gaze with a kind of cold and impenetrable regard, and she gave away nothing.

Kate perched on the edge of the bench, her heart thundering so hard that she could taste it in her throat, but the doctor for the Collective only sat there.

Beckett knew this tactic; she wouldn't be the first to cave. She kept her mouth shut, her eyes on the woman beside her on the bench, and she rigidly held herself together. She was mindful that Castle had only fifteen minutes up on that roof though.

The rain spattered across her cheeks, streaked a line of water over her forehead and into her hair. The cold was sharply wet, and she was having trouble breathing past it. She had mud on her shoes where she hadn't been able to avoid the puddle on the pathway, but the woman's ivory coat was spotless.

"You are from Black," the woman said coolly. "_Oui_?"

French. "_Oui_," she said, clearing her throat. "Kate. _Anglais_?"

Jolin pressed her lips together, a flare of dislike. "Yes. English." Her accent was nearly British, the French impression all but gone. "The one who hit him, beat him up. Yes?"

"Yes," she offered hesitantly.

"Good. You are the one I want." The woman's coat was thick, not bulky but well-shaped and definitely able to hide a weapon. The rain was getting in Beckett's way, misting her lashes; her palms were sweating again. She couldn't tell if Jolin was carrying.

"Dr Jolin," Kate said then, but for some reason a wave of dizziness swept over her.

_Panic attack_. God, no. No, she couldn't.

In her ear, "Whoa, steady there, Kate."

Castle. This was for Castle. Get it together. She couldn't sway into his damn shot either.

Her lids were heavy, her _chest_ was heavy, lungs tangled with the rainwater and the cold seeping down her neck. She blinked hard and the woman in front of her reformed, her vision cleared.

"Dr Jolin, why don't you tell me why we're here?" she said. She heard her own voice as if from a long way off, saw her vision tunneling again.

Damn it. Not now.

"_Agent_, a few years ago, John indicated to me that you were involved in the serum trials."

Beckett kept her mouth pressed tightly together, fighting internally past the heart-stopping crush of her own body in rebellion. She could _not_ afford a panic attack right now. She had to get her shit together.

"You don't have to answer," Jolin said fiercely. "But I do know. I _know_ what he did to you. We started this thing together but he went _too far_. Do you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm listening," Kate got out, but, God, it took everything in her to keep her spine straight.

"You're in danger," Jolin said in a tight whisper. "My team have been doing trials on marmosets - non-human primates - because they are so psychology similar. Brain functions, Agent."

Kate clenched her fists and studied the rain that had collected on the collar of the ivory coat, tried to stay upright. Just stay upright.

"Brain functions - severe disorders - a weakness for respiratory viruses which mutate over time-"

Beckett was grateful for the wire, that Black was recording this, because every other word was echoing in her head like a gong.

"He needs to know. He _has_ to be told. The mitochondrial functions _degrade over time_. Are you listening to me?"

She was going to be sick.

* * *

The rain was misting, the wind blowing soft eddies of wetness across his back.

From the earpiece, he heard Dr Jolin's conversation as if she were on the roof with him.

"-when brain functions disintegrate. We do an autopsy and discover the hypothalamus is enlarged, that the suprachiasmatic nucleus - that bundle of nerves that regulate the sleep cycle, the circadian rhythm - it's caused these severe disorders-"

He was suddenly wishing he had paid more attention when Boyd talked about the minutiae of the serum, the smallest parts and how they affected mitochondria and red blood cells and the brain.

Kate was certainly spellbound. Castle adjusted his eye at the scope and kept Jolin in his sights, the rifle snug against his cheek and shoulder. It was cold on the rooftop and the wind was blowing rain, but he had the flutter of Kate's hair to give him an accurate air speed.

He settled against the parapet, the concrete hard and unforgiving. Through the scope, Kate looked vulnerable and pale, her hair too dark, skin a blue-tinted pallor. She was staring intently at Jolin, but she hadn't given the signal that she needed help.

Her body swayed.

He told himself it was only the wind, it was only because she was down there alone, meeting his father's contact, while Black was somewhere in a damn van, circling the site. Castle definitely didn't like his father on the ground while he himself was up here, but it was better that Castle have the sniper rifle trained near Kate than for his fucking father to be the one.

It was going better than he'd expected. Jolin seemed to want to _tell_ them things. Kate hadn't spoken a word in the last thirty seconds.

"-when the hypothalamus is enlarged like that, it takes on other duties, things we can't understand-"

Puddles were forming on the roof, down below in the dirt tracks of the pathways. Castle eased his hand away from the trigger and squeezed his fist, a small reminder that not everything was perfectly fine - his fingers were stiffening up in the cold.

Castle replaced his finger on the trigger guard, careful not to move away from the sight of Jolin's knees in the crosshairs.

Castle intently studied the woman in the pale, ivory coat as she sat on the park bench. The buds of green on the branches didn't block his view, only laced an image together of an older woman with strong features, completely urban and scarily intelligent.

She was wearing a bright red hat, conspicuous, but both of her hands were in the front pockets of her knee-length ivory coat. He didn't like that. Didn't like that she hadn't taken them out of her coat.

"She's most likely armed," Castle spoke softly in the mic.

He heard a murmuring from Kate, who apparently agreed, but Black was on Castle's open channel and he cut in. "No. She knows better than that. She wouldn't be armed."

"I'm looking right at her," Castle fought back. "Bulge in her right front pocket. She's carrying. She's _talking_, yes, but she's carrying."

Kate didn't comment, but his wife hadn't done much of the talking anyway. Only now she was leaning forward, as if _towards_ that bulge in the woman's pocket.

"Beck?" he murmured, warning her.

She roused on the bench, gave him an entirely unprofessional glance over her shoulder at the rooftop, and Castle stiffened.

"Kate, you okay?"

She _shook her head_. Fuck.

"Walk away," he told her immediately. He trusted her instincts. "Kate, get up and-"

The woman was quite close; she'd stopped talking and made some kind of movement. Now Kate was breathing hard on the channel, her noisy inhales the only thing Castle could hear. Jolin leaned in, blocking his view of his wife. Castle didn't like it, scanned the park, a quick check, because it didn't feel right; he didn't like the woman's easy approach, her effusive confession on the park bench with little confirmation of contact.

Castle half-raised from his crouch, gun still trained.

"Hold, Richard. Hold your position."

He stopped, sighting along the scope. "Beckett? What's going on? What is she doing?"

There was a burst of noise on the mic and a groan from his wife.

And then Kate collapsed.

Castle took the shot.

* * *

the end of **Close Encounters 21: Casino Royale**

stay tuned for **Close Encounters 22: Win, Lose, or Die**


End file.
